


Terrible Temptations

by Carleen



Category: Halo
Genre: Chasky, Comfort, Drama & Romance, Halo 4, Hurt, Master Chief/Lasky Slash, Multi, Romance, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-02-16 10:29:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 30,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2266341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carleen/pseuds/Carleen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Comfort, friendship, and love sustain Master Chief through the long nights after Cortana's Death. What, after all, are friends for?</p><p>My other stories: http://archiveofourown.org/users/Carleen/works</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

* * *

"Do you really think it is weakness that yields to temptation? I tell you that there are terrible temptations which it requires strength, strength, and courage to yield to." —Oscar Wilde

* * *

 

Spartans are not accustomed to sleeping flat on their back, spread out in a comfortable place, with plenty of room for their long limbs. They certainly never get used to the feel of a pillow supporting their head or a soft blanket over their chest and feet. To be naked, without armor and a weapon close at hand, is an almost certain death sentence. Yet, here he was comfortable, warm and at peace. Although the journey to this place of respite had been long, it was difficult to remember why he'd resisted in the first place.

The taste of the meal he'd enjoyed last night had been unusual. Cleared away hours before, the sultry, rich scent of red wine, and the beefsteak still drifted on the warm air of the room. The crusty taste of the sourdough bread had pleased him. Fresh, warm, and yeasty the feel of the crust in his mouth had been an adventure. The wine they'd enjoyed, another delightful discovery. He'd probably had too much of both, but he'd had the unusual opportunity last night to eat and drink his fill. The food, the company, and the comfort of real sleep, are rare indulgences for a man who lives on the battlefield and sleeps in a Cryotank.

Wide-awake now, his eyes quickly adjust to the darkness and the Spartan continues his perusal of the room. An officer's quarters, which meant the almost unheard of luxuries of a private latrine and small kitchen. A few personal mementos sat jockeying for position among books and electronic devices. A uniform lays neatly draped over a chair and boots, with toes lined up with military precision sit beneath.

The only light in the room is the pale blue of the Comm panel by the door. The blue light signals the unit is off and means do not disturb. Even the A.I.'s pedestal is dark. Which, is also unusual, he thinks as he rolls to his side.

The movement bared his back and a draft of cool air from the air recycler shivers down his spine. Almost immediately, a long arm replaces the blanket over his shoulder. The arm yields to his grasp and the body behind him moves obediently closer. The warm, sensuous length of feminine curves warms his backside as no blanket ever could. The fingers splayed over his abdomen sent a thrill of anticipation coursing along his already sensitized nerve endings. After tucking her legs under his, he felt and heard a long sigh as the woman fell back to sleep.

A warm hand on his cheek directs his gaze down to a pair of brown eyes set in a boyishly handsome face. As he contemplates these sensations and the promise of safe haven in the touch and reflective eyes, he realizes, with a sudden grip of the fingers touching his face, that Cortana hadn't been his first thought when opened his eyes.

~o0o~


	2. Wayfaring Stranger

* * *

"I'm just a poor wayfarin' stranger,

While travelin' through this world below.

Yet there's no sickness, no toil, nor danger,

In that bright land to which I go."

* * *

  ** _Four Months Earlier.._.**

"You found him," she whispered pulling to a stop just behind Captain Lasky where he stood in an empty corridor.

Captain Lasky nodded and looked to his friend with eyebrows raised. When Commander Palmer smiled and nodded her encouragement. The Skipper headed toward the viewscreen. In just a few steps, he stood behind the silent giant staring out at Earth.

The Skipper of the Infinity knew his crew referred to him as mother hen or den mother behind his back. They also respected him and he could take a little teasing. It's a command style that works for him. He has the best people working for him, because the Infinity and her crew attract the best and brightest. No commanding officer is prouder of their crew than him.

"Mind if I join you, Chief?"

Although most soldiers considered the Master Chief more of a legend than an actual man. Many argued that he was just a heavily augmented cyborg and not human at all. No one knew his feelings or his opinions, because no one ever thought to ask him. He did his job and he was the best at what he did.

There are no statistics about how many Spartans died protecting humanity. No one really knew how many lives he'd saved. The soldiers only knew that if you were lucky enough to see a Spartan on the battlefield, your chances of making it to the next poker game got much better.

If you cared to look closer, if it were possible to see through the Mjolnir armor to the still and silent man staring out the viewscreen. If you could get close enough to him to count his heart rate or notice the rapid rise and fall of his breath, you'd notice the outward calm of his demeanor hides the inner turmoil of his losing battle with rising emotions. The doctors explained that his pituitary implant is gone, shattered in the Librarian's attempt to protect him from the Didact. The reality is a painful maelstrom of unexpressed guilt and growing despondency.

Although he never doubted his ability to bend any circumstance to his will, he cannot control the desire to put his fist through the viewscreen, grab Earth and crush it in his fist. How dare they taunt him by living their lives as if nothing has happened? If he stood very still, he could will it away. He could do it. He could find his way back to… before. Back to the man who had no thoughts other than battlefield success and no life beyond fighting and the night-blindness of Cryosleep.

He didn't intent to break down. Didn't intend to give rein to the emotions churning inside him. But he can't stop the empty silence inside his head, or the vacuum left by her departure filling with rage. She's gone and it should have been him. They should have gone together. He's lost everyone he ever cared about, but not her, not Cortana. She was his to keep; he'd earned the right to keep something for himself. Hadn't he?

If he listened hard enough, he will hear her voice again. The humor, the intelligence, and her beauty will shine again in his mind. He will protect her as he always had.

_Who will watch over me now as I sleep?_

Startled by the Captain's greeting, he responded quickly as if embarrassed at being caught at doing something wrong. "Of course not, sir."

Lasky peered into the golden visor, wishing he could see the man's eyes. He noticed the Spartan's hands were curled into fists.

"At ease, Chief. Seems a little strange for you to be calling me sir. We've know each other a long time. Please, it's Tom."

_There is no one left alive who knows my name._

In the quiet of the darkened corridor, Captain Lasky stood silently next to the Spartan and thinking about how to reach him. Although they shared the same view of Earth, their thoughts took very different paths. The Captain could not stand by and watch the troubled Spartan suffer alone. Compelled to connect with the charismatic man, the Captain tried a different tact.

"You don't talk much do you, Chief?" Captain Lasky said quietly, offering an opening and hoping for a response. But one does not tease a Spartan. So when the Master Chief didn't react, he tried again. "I've lost people I cared about before, but nothing like what you're going through."

"It's our duty to protect humanity, whatever the cost."

A trickle of sweat wandered down Lasky's back. As he predicted Master Chief planned to simply bury any emotional response to Cortana's death. Don't feel, don't grieve, don't react. But Lasky learned over the years that burying unpleasant emotions yielded nothing but torment and sadness.

"We're just people, Chief. Yes, we're soldiers and our duty is often very difficult, but we're people too. People with needs and hopes and dreams. Don't deny yourself a time to grieve."

"And what good would that do, sir?" The Spartan's voice lashed out.

Lasky stood his ground.

"Shall I break down and jeopardize a mission? Endanger others while I grieve over an A.I. who was nothing more than an elaborate and highly technical arrangement of ones and zeros?"

"Chief, you don't mean that."

The Spartan stumbled forward, placing his palm on the viewscreen as if it were the only thing capable of keeping him on his feet.

"She said that to me once, about being a machine." The Spartan murmured his words so lacerated by pain Lasky had his hand on the man's armored forearm before his brain acknowledged the movement.

"Chief." How to get through to this wounded man? He would not use the word broken. There was a human man inside that armor and he would reach him. "You're not a machine."

The Spartan stared down at the hand on his arm. "Captain … I don't understand."

"I hardly understand this myself. You're larger than life, Chief. You took care of me once, I guess I'm trying to return the favor."

"I don't need or require what you are offering."

Refusing to rise to the bait of Master Chief's anger, Lasky kept his voice quiet. "What do you need, Chief? A friend? A shoulder? I'm the CO of this ship, but, I know what it's like to stand alone."

Lasky extended his hand. Master Chief stared at it for several long moments before returning the simple embrace.

"And you believe above anyone else that you understand me?"

"Because I know what it feels like to be isolated with people all around you."

"She was all I had."

At last, a genuine response. Lasky used the grip of Master Chief's hand to pull himself closer. "Let me help. I'm not Cortona, but—."

"—No you're not. You're a warm hand offering friendship and understanding."

"I've watched many men grieve. I understand your reluctance to remove the armor. Do you have her chip?"

"It's here," said the Chief indicating the back of his helmet. "Where it belongs."

"I understand. Chief?" Lasky tugged on the hand he held as if too much pressure might break the fragile connection. "Will you come with me? Let's get that armor off and see the docs."

The Spartan stepped back and snatched his hand from the Captain's grip.

Lasky swallowed hard and kept talking, "You watched her sacrifice herself. You saw her fade away. But, she's still here," Lasky placed a hand on the Spartan's chest piece. These were probably more words then he'd said in his entire life. He was not a talkative man. A fact, pointed out to him by the handful of women he'd allowed into his life. But they hadn't been military, so they hadn't understood. After time, they simply drifted out of his life. He'd known the fault was his and he'd known it was better that way.

Sarah Palmer understood and he suspected the Master Chief did to. Which is why he would continue to try to reach the Spartan.

"Chief, she's here in your heart. Where no one can take it away."

The golden visor stared down at him. The armored body as immovable as a granite statue.

"But, what would she say to you if she were here?" Come on Chief, Lasky said silently, give me something to work with. Then the moment came.

"I believe… I believe she would say, get moving, Spartan. And, never let me live down calling her a bunch of ones and zeroes."

"From what I saw of her, I think you're right," Lasky responded, smiling. "Now, come on and let's get you settled in."

The Captain started off down the corridor without looking back. Then he heard the sound of the Master Chief's heavy footsteps on the deck plating and didn't bother suppressing the breath of relief or the grin that broke out on his normally somber appearance. When he passed the spot where he knew Commander Palmer stood he glanced quickly at her before she disappeared down a hallway.

An hour later the Spartan reported in to Captain Lasky. Showered, changed out of his armor into a set of BDUs, the Master Chief still managed to cut an imposing figure standing in the hatchway to his office.

"Please come in, Chief. Sit down."

The Spartan found the oversized reinforced chair and sat down. As he sat back, he noticed the lights in the room were dimmed. That was a thoughtful, he thought. Without the filters of his armor and visor, it always took several hours for him to grow accustomed to the harsh lighting. It was those same filters which kept him from actually perceiving the finer points of a person's expression or facial characteristics. Now, as he watched the Captain resume his seat, he could see the warmth in the brown eyes and hear the sincerity in the man's words.

What Captain Lasky saw in those hooded cobalt eyes nearly made him shiver. The dark almost blue-black depths were weary and — he couldn't think of a better word — haunted. The Spartan's right arm was secured in an arm sling. The CMO had already briefed him on the Master Chief's injuries. The broken ribs, separated shoulder and exposure to the vacuum of space would heal with rest and medical care. And, he had a plan.

"Chief, I could use your help. What do you think about having some work to do?"

The Spartan's head came up and their eyes met and held. Then Master Chief nodded his head slowly, his shoulders relaxed and expression softened. Lasky came around the front of his desk.

"It'll be okay, Chief. Everything will be okay."

"Thank you, sir."


	3. Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AN: Here we go. I even Googled a search for Master Chief/Lasky pairings and found nothing but a reference to a conversation on a blog site. Never one to back down from a challenge. Especially one as wickedly evil as this, I present you with the following. I only hope I did them justice. I wish I were a better writer. Okay... so you're warned. Right? If this isn't your thing, then please don't read - evil grin - I'm having a good time with it though.

* * *

The truth is rarely pure and never simple." ―Oscar Wilde, _The Importance of Being Earnest_

* * *

**_Three Months Earlier..._ **

The gym was his sanctuary. An hour of peace and quiet, he reserved for himself at the end of a normal sixteen-hour days. A hard workout cleared his head and a hot shower revived him. Then he could grab a few hours of sleep and be ready to face another busy duty day. He loved the work and enjoyed the pace, although he sometimes wondered just how many more years he could keep it up. Humanity had been at war his entire adult life. What would it feel like to slow down or live in a galaxy at peace?

What he does know is the UNSC Infinity is his responsibility. In times of war or peace, his duty day will begin again in five hours. With a towel wrapped around his waist, Captain Lasky shaved and combed his thick hair until the natural wave finally gave up and obediently disappeared.

Behind him, on the other side of the locker room, a shower turned off. The sound of the sharp slap of a fist hitting the shower wall peaked his curiosity. Someone must have come in while he was himself in the shower. Normally, allowed his privacy, in fact other than this moment, no one had dared interrupt his privacy. So he couldn't help but wonder at the identity of the other person.

A quick look around the corner revealed the bulk of The Master Chief's body enveloped in steam and crowding the tiled walls of the stall. Why is he here, Lasky wondered? Instead of Spartan Town, where everything was built on a larger scale.

As the steam cleared, the obvious body language communicated clearly to the Captain. Something was wrong. With both hands braced on the wall, the Spartan shook his head as if to clear it.

"Chief, everything okay?" Lasky ventured.

"Yes, sir…. No, sir."

"Is that a yes, call a medic? Or no, leave me alone."

The Spartan stepped out of the stall and faced the officer. As the steam cleared, Lasky's mouth went dry. Standing tall, as if he were at attention, apparently at ease with his nudity and the jutting erection was the Master Chief. Water ran in rivulets over the sculpted body

Lasky swallowed hard, his knees suddenly feeling not up to holding himself upright.

"I-I'll leave you alone, Chief. To take care of… your needs."

"Painful."

"Well, take care of it and it'll go away," he said with a grin he hoped would defuse the situation into a humorous moment. It's his intention to walk away from this very personal situation. Until, he remembered something about the Spartan IIs. Years and years of emotional control and suppression of their libido left these men and women with an incomplete understanding of their own sexuality. Lasky scrubbed a hand through his hair. Had the man never…?

Was he actually about to have the talk with a Spartan? Befriend him yes. Provide support, of course. Well, he hadn't risen to the captaincy of the flagship of the UNSC Fleet without learning a thing or two about...

"Roland!"

The ship's A.I. responded instantly. "Sir!"

"Close this channel and lock the door. If anyone enters this room, I will personally reprogram you and you'll be wearing a French maid's outfit instead of that pilot getup. Clear?"

"Crystal, sir! Aye, sir! No need to threaten, sir."

"Roland!" When Lasky heard the door mechanism lock, he tightened the towel around his waist and faced the bewildered Spartan.

"Chief? If I understand you, this is the first time you've experienced…" _Shit, what was he doing here?_ Was he actually saying these words? He should just leave. Right now. Pull on his uniform and get back to the bridge. Do it. Now. Move, Lasky. Then the Spartan said the word and there's no going back now.

"Arousal? Yes, sir."

A piece of an emotional wall fell; Lasky heard it in his mind and felt his body respond.

Get out of here. Let the man have his peace.

"May I step closer, Chief?" Lasky took the Spartan's silence as permission. Adrenaline surged through the Captain's body as the sight and smell of the Spartan filled his senses. It was one thing to see the man in the famous armor. The reality was a sculpted body with broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist and hips. Powerful legs and arms bulging with taut and rounded muscles. Lasky noticed the man's shoulders prickled with goose flesh, while scars stood out in relief against the pale chilled skin. Lasky reached for a towel and placed it gently across the Spartan's shoulders. That much, he could manage.

He should stop now and leave. The look in the Chief's eyes fixed him where he stood. Unconsciously, the hands that placed the towel over the massive shoulders moved over the firm skin, smoothing the chill away.

"Chief. I don't want you to be in pain. But if this goes much further we're about to break some pretty specific rules about fraternization. Let me help you or tell me to leave."

"How?"

How? The man didn't know how to take care of himself. Well, Lasky hadn't gotten this far in his career without witnessing a few things. From humans torturing and killing each other in the name of religion or politics, to some strange sexual customs.

Lasky swallowed hard and tried to keep his voice even, "Nothing new. Nothing every guy since Adam hasn't done for himself."

"Show me." The Spartan grabbed Lasky's hand and placed it on the rigid pulsing member. Suddenly dizzy, Lasky closed his eyes and leaned into the massive wall of the Spartan's body.

Master Chief circled an arm around Lasky's shoulders when he felt him sag. "Show me," he urged with a squeeze. Lasky turned his face into the man's chest and took an experimental hold of the Spartan's rigid weeping flesh. Scorching his hand as he moved his hand up and down, Lasky heard himself moan as if he was in pain and turned the emotion he could no longer hide into the Spartan's embrace

Every muscle in the Spartan's body tensed and he took a step toward the shower wall away from Lasky.

"It… stop."

"Give me your hand, Chief. Like this. Trust me." Lasky cupped his hand over the end of the Chief's weeping organ and stroked the natural lubricant down over the thick shaft. The Chief groaned the sound rumbling from somewhere deep in his chest and grinding its way across his vocal cords like broken glass.

"Help me," Lasky whispered. "Push." Lasky moved his lips over the hard pectoral muscle under his cheek. Then of its own accord, his mouth began to forage and when he sucked hard on the nipple, Master Chief came up on his toes.

"This is… don't stop!"

"You're doing fine… trust me… let it happen."

The Chief's heart jackhammered against Lasky's cheek. He felt the exact moment Master Chief chose to let go, when he began to piston his hips against the Captain's hand.

The Chief's hand splayed over Lasky's cheek and pressed him against his chest. With an urgency no longer his to command the smaller man opened his lips to taste the ridgeline of pectoral muscles again. His free hand moved downwards to cup the muscular gluteus and firm back.

"You're amazing. Come to me… that's it, Chief."

Master Chief's body tightened and boiled with energy, like lightning on a summer's night. With one hand over Lasky's and his other hand, holding the Captain against his side, he gave into the aching hunger of his body. Dimly aware of the Captain's trembling, he wondered if he were hurting him. But he couldn't move any further than pushing himself into the hand that gripped him or open his eyes, because he'd backed them both against the wall.

Then in a long overdue moment, the Master Chief experienced his release. With a groan as deep and resonating as thunder his mind lasered to the point where Lasky touched him. Nerve endings ignited, sending a pulse like plasma fire down his spine. Deep in his belly, something broke free. White heat blinded him and a pain like death flashed across his muscles. As his body emptied, release arched across the shower stall to the opposite side of the green tiled wall.

"Be easy, Chief." Then in the turning of a universe that could still hold such surprises, Lasky glanced across the heaving chest and up to the frowning face of his friend and wanted very much to feel something more. The isolation of his own role on this ship reminded him of his own need for human contact. How long had it been? He couldn't remember the last time and he realized it no longer mattered. With a firm hand, he pulled the Chief's head down to his. At the sudden weight of the smaller man's body against his, the Chief instinctively steadied him with his hands on Lasky's hips.

"Here's something else I can show you," and Lasky placed the whisper of a kiss on the Spartan's mouth. The larger man responded by pulling away abruptly. The movement shifted Lasky's last defense and it fell to the tiled floor in a puddle around his bare feet. The Chief stared while his eyes raked over the human's body.

"You are alsoarou—"

"—Yes."

No! Pull yourself together, Lasky warned himself. You're the Captain of this ship. "This was _wrong_ , Chief. I have to get back to work. I apologize for intruding."

"Intruding? Sir?" When the Spartan swayed forward into the pressure of the smaller human hand the movement knocked Lasky off balance and he fell forward too. Master Chief caught him with is arms around his waist and yanked him hard against his body.

"What you have done—"

"—could get us both thrown in the brig. No, Chief. I'm sorry. Forget about this… what happened here. I shouldn't have... I shouldn't have." Lasky twisted away. In seconds, the Captain was dressed and out the door. While the Master Chief stood alone, his body spent with an exhaustion, he'd never known and a deep satisfaction he intended to experience again.


	4. Always With You

Question, since as far as I can tell I'm the first to write this pairing do I get to name it?  Chasky ? LOL!

* * *

"No good deed goes unpunished." —Oscar Wilde

* * *

On a ship the size of the UNSC Infinity most of the crew never speaks to the Captain. Layers of supervision beginning with the petty officers, the junior officers, to department heads and senior staff form links in a chain of command. A tradition of authority that is hundreds of years old keeps lines of communication clear and direct. And woe to the sailor who tries to break the chain, by speaking to an officer without invitation. Except at staff meetings and inspections, or unless you were assigned to the bridge, you might never see him. This morning, with his thoughts in turmoil, that tradition suited Captain Thomas Lasky perfectly.

The Captain of a ship must stand apart from his crew. To hold himself to the highest standards of leadership and role model for his crew to follow. Personal friendships interfere with that role by blurring the lines of relationships and familiarity breaks down discipline. Very few men and women can sustain this model of behavior, even fewer try; even less honored with the privilege.

The Captain of the Infinity is one of those singular men. A fine officer, a natural leader, and a brave man. After a rough start in military school, he forced himself into the mold of the man he believed he needed to become. By setting goals and learning from every experience, wisely chosen role models helped mold him into the officer he is today. It's not that he doesn't have a heart or feelings or care about his people. He does care, with a ferocity he usually buries because of its intensity. Long ago, he learned to hold the emotions at bay. That is the lesson he learned at sixteen when he listened to his brother's dying words and watched Chyler die in his arms.

This morning, with a shaky grip on that persona, Captain Lasky placed his sleepy third officer in charge of the bridge and headed below decks. He intends to keep running until he sweats every guilty feeling, every desire and erotic thought out his pores. After that, he is certain the incident with the Master Chief will erase itself from his list of things to worry about. Banish it to one of those small black emotional boxes, boxes where he long ago tucked his heart. He'll make it a damned order if he has to.

The hangar deck offers the best refuge, because the night shift is still on duty. For almost a half a mile, a fleet of Pelicans shields him from onlookers. Duty rosters, training, promotions, and missions distract him from the feelings lurking just below the surface, waiting to pounce. The sleeve of his sweatshirt clears his eyes, and he sees the Pelican. It's the Pelican. Along with the Master Chief, his crew managed to recover the Pelican he kitted out for the Master Chief to pursue the Didact's ship. Lasky's eyes travel over the hull. The brave old girl is still dinged up, but she stands proudly on her pad. The crew hasn't had time for cosmetic repairs, but she's passed her checklist and ready for the next mission. Memories of that day well up and he swipes an arm over his eyes again.

Curious, he thinks as he jogged passed. The ramp is down and he wonders why. Ordinarily at the end of a shift all maintenance is buttoned up and secured. All the tools put away and accounted for. His feet make a clattering noise on the metal deck plate. Chest heaving with exertion he doesn't stop until his hands grip the back of the pilot's chair. The cockpit smells of sweat and grease, of fear and courage and relentless determination to win. Lasky breathes it in, sucking it deep into his lungs. These are familiar to him and helps him catch his breath. But the memories are waiting for him as he relaxes. As his breathing quiets, the memories come back like an unexpected blow. The Spartan's boundless courage and tenacity, the strength of the arm around his bare shoulders and the innocent trust in the man's eyes. The look of genuine surprise on the Spartan's face when he made the choice to stop resisting and allow his body's needs to find release.

Lasky pounds a fist into the chair. It shouldn't have happened. Why had he turned back and sought the identity of… He should have dressed and walked away.

"I don't even know your name," the Captain sighed into the quiet gloom of the empty cockpit. This confused longing must stop, he told himself. He didn't listen.

"It's not something we share with outsiders," a deep, resonant voice said behind him.

Fingers gouged into the leather pilot's chair. Adrenaline flooded his bloodstream in a cascade flow of desire and sent his heart pounding. The response to the Spartan's presence caught him without defenses against the onslaught of desire. Breath stubbornly refused to fill his lungs.

"Are you ill, sir?"

The Master Chief observed the body language of the now silent Captain. Their encounter in the locker room had not been far from the Spartan's thoughts. All through the long night he'd reviewed and cataloged each sensation. Although he knew instinctively how intensely personal it had been, he was more confused by the flood of sensations created out of simply being touched. While a steaming hot shower had always been one of his greatest pleasures, the events that had transpired afterwards confused him. His body had always been a simple tool. A tool that enabled him to move quickly, exert great force and strength when called upon to act. He could shoot farther, act quickly, and fight harder. That he could be immobilized by his body's needs and desires had never occurred to him.

It was the memory that instigated the encounter that kept circling in his mind. He'd used his greater strength and size to force the Captain to show him... Apologizing was the least he could do. Because no matter what else he was, a Spartan, an augmented human, a mysterious man in body armor, he was also an NCO. An NCO assaulting an officer was a court-martial offense.

The Spartan cocked his head and waited for the Captain to respond. When he didn't the Chief continued, "Captain Lasky… Assaulting an officer is a punishable offense. There are charges."

"Charges?" Lasky spun around confusion written on every line of his expression. "For what?"

"Sir, I will not have you humiliated in a military court. I will retire."

"Retire?" Lasky asked, his voice rising. "Retire and go where?"

The Spartan shook his head, "Where I can forget that through my careless actions I lost the two individuals I respect most. Forget my last official military action was assaulting an officer."

Lasky closed the space between them in three strides. "Look at me." Peering up at the Chief and forcing him to meet his eyes. "You will not leave this ship."

"Sir…"

"Stop calling me, sir," Lasky said, fisting his hands into the collar of the Spartan's uniform. Then he pushed himself away and turned his back to Master Chief. Lasky laughed quietly, "Let's drop the rank thing for just a second. I'm other things besides an officer, Chief. A simple man, sometimes a lonely man, who for a moment felt needed, as if he could offer something more than just orders or leadership or sending young men and women to their death. A moment so intense he forgot himself. But he never allows that to happen. Never forgets who he is…"

Large hands covered his shoulders. The unexpected contact covered him like a warm blanket. Lasky helplessly leaned into it. All the promises he'd made himself evaporated in the comforting heat of the Spartan's touch.

"May I admit something to you, Chief?"

Master Chief squeezed the man's shoulders gently. "Of course."

The Chief's breath on the back of his neck made him shiver. "The only time I've genuinely felt safe is when you're around. That horrific night at Corbulo."

The Spartan tilted Lasky's chin up. The acceptance he found there gave him the courage he needed to keep talking "So many years ago. Tom, don't you know? I've always been with you."

"Chief," he said quietly and turned his face against the large hand resting on his shoulder. The Captain held himself very still. Was this real? Was it even possible? "There will be no charges."

The Master Chief continued."Then I want to admit something."Yesterday. If it is... If you want... I want to experience that again." Lasky felt the Spartan's forehead rest on the top of his head. Laughing with relief, Lasky turned in the circle of the Spartan's embrace and grinned up at him. "Yes, Chief. I'll admit to that too. Maybe somewhere warmer and drier than that latrine?"

The Spartan shrugged, with mischief in his eyes."It's the officer's latrine."

"Yeah, about that. What were you doing in there?"

The clattering of feet on the ramp startled them both.

"There you are," Commander Palmer called from the bottom of the ramp.

The Master Chief dropped his hands and straightened. To let go of the man in front of him proved very difficult. Painful. Almost as painful as losing… He pushed the memory away and watched Lasky step back and square his shoulders, tugging at the hem of his jacket. They had about three seconds before Palmer joined them.

"Experience what again?" Palmer asked, glancing at the two men. "They need you on the bridge, Captain."

"Ship's Comms stop working?" Lasky asked, eyebrows raised.

"They're working fine, sir. Seems Roland is being rather protective of you these days. Don't know why."

"But, how did you know I was here?" Lasky asked, genuinely confused.

"Easy. You always come here when you've got something on your mind." Commander Palmer headed back down the ramp.

Walking easily their strides, quick and long, the men followed her. They took with them the knowledge that something came to life between them a few minutes ago. Something to trust and something worth pursuing. As they turned to go their separate ways they exchanged a quick glance to reassure the other of the truth of what happened between them.


	5. More Questions Than Answers

* * *

"Some cause happiness wherever they go; others whenever they go." - Oscar Wilde

* * *

 

_"Spartan 117, report to Commander Palmer's office. Spartan 117, Master Chief please report to Commander Palmer's office."_

Although he didn't show it the summons surprised him. It was probably a mistake to assume all his dealings on the ship would be with Captain Lasky. Truthfully, he was ready to get back to work. Whether it was training, or teaching, didn't really matter. He wasn't used to inactivity and there were only so many hours he could spend in the gym. Master Chief reluctantly saved his work to his personal file, logged out of the computer and headed for a comm panel to acknowledge the call.

The petty officer in charge of the records vault walked the Spartan to the door.

"Thank you for your assistance, Petty Officer Snyder."

"Anytime, Master Chief. Anytime. Door's always open for you."

The Spartan spared him a quick look with his eyebrows raised. "Is it?"

The young sailor blushed, "No, sir. Vault's always locked up tighter than the Captain's single malt scotch collection!"

The Spartan reached out and shook the sailor's hand. He could do this. He could share a joke. His confidence rose when the young man visibly relaxed.

With a final nod, the Spartan headed down the hallway. As he walked, he reviewed the information he discovered researching Requiem, the Didact's ship and the information the scientists compiled. Some of the results were still classified above his level or inconclusive, which was surprising since he'd actually been there. But he intended to continue his research. Tomorrow he would try to speak to the group of scientists assigned to the project. If there were a chance Cortana survived, he would find it.

He also thought about the events of the last week and whether or not he should seek out the Captain and what he might say if he did. Master Chief wondered what Cortana might say if she knew about what happened between him and Captain Lasky. Would she tease him? Would she give him that scolding look? An unbidden thought trickled through and he realized it was probably good she would never know. Why would he hide that from her? He compared ideas about intimacy and which was more intensely personal, the moment he shared with the Captain or Cortana's almost continual presence in his mind?

The loss of that presence a constant reminder of her absence. Still, it was an interesting puzzle. Could anyone understand what it was like to have a presence in your mind, monitoring every heartbeat, every rise in blood pressure. The intensity of Lasky's hands on him had been as intense as fighting the Covenant or fighting for his life in a no win scenario.

In those cases he ignored his body's fight or flight instinct and used the adrenaline rush to strengthen himself. With Lasky it had been the opposite, he'd given in to it, sailed rudderless through the currents of the sensations they created together and brought to a natural crescendo.

It was happening again. Curious, he thought as he examined and monitored the rising blood pressure. The odd sensation of blood pooling deep in his belly, the lightheadedness. His memories of those moments were very clear. They danced in the back of his mind, tempting him, threatening to come forward and propel him to seek, to find resolution.

The door to Commander Palmer's office lay around the next corner. With some reluctance he focused on the coming interview, he was a little surprised when his body failed to obey his mind. And what would Cortana have to say about this lapse in combat readiness. He wasn't entering a battle, he reminded himself. No, simply reporting in.

"Spartan 117, reporting as ordered, ma'am."

The Spartan commander didn't rise from her desk. "Master Chief."

Tempted to return her gaze, the Spartan kept his eyes focused on the wall behind her. He did not know this woman personally. Only by her considerable reputation. At any rate it was always better to let the officer set the tone of a meeting. Interesting that she hadn't given him the command for at ease or offered him a chair.

"So, how does it feel to be out of a job, Master Chief?"

Unaccustomed to playing politics, the Spartan decided to keep the three probable conclusions to himself. Either, he was being retired, court martialed or she was joking. This particular Spartan IV who wore her Scout Variant Mjolnir armor during normal duty hours didn't appear to be the joking type. Then he remembered she'd witnessed him disobey a direct order from Captain del Rio. He'd better come up with a response.

"I don't understand, ma'am." At least that was an honest response, he thought.

"And I don't have time for NCOs who disobey direct orders from their superiors. My Spartan IVs are professional soldiers. Will you have a problem fitting in, Spartan?"

Quickly suppressing the ghost of a smile that touched his lips. He'd seen plenty of her professional soldiers drinking heavily and boasting of their exploits with woman. He'd never had a drink in his life. None of the Spartan IIs drank alcohol or used drugs. Chief Mendez would have dropped them in a wilderness without food or water for a month if he'd caught them sneaking alcohol. It never seemed to matter though. He and his Spartan brothers and sisters were always more interested in learning, and the friendly competition of training.

The Commander had come around her desk to stand directly in front of him. With her armor on she was roughly two inches taller.

"Something amusing you, Master Chief?"

Actually, this whole situation was amusing. He could imagine what Cortana would be whispering to him right now.

"No, ma'am. Wondering why you feel the need for intimidation." Then he deliberately focused his eyes into hers. "Is this a technique you must use with your Spartan IIs, ma'am?"

Her mouth opened slightly in response and it was several seconds before she responded. During that time, Master Chief took the opportunity to study the woman in front of him. Kelly came to mind. For as long as he'd known her, she'd never lost her youthful appearance. Never lost the look of delight and surprise at what life had to offer.

The women in front of him had a hardness about her. A line on the bridge of her nose, which spoke of her determination. Tiny lines ran from the corners of her eyes. Probably not from laughing, but from intense concentration and stress. With her hair pulled so severely back from her face, she seemed more defensive than hard.

"I also don't allow fraternization between my officers and enlisted. My Spartans have a job to do and between training and missions there's no time. Based on what I've seen that seems to be a problem for you."

Her mouth is bracketed with indented lines as she frowned. He decided she was pretty and might be prettier if she smiled.

"Is it what?"

"A problem for you?"

"Are you basing that assumption on the one conversation you witnessed between Captain Lasky and myself in the Pelican?" He had to be sure. It's not as if he thought she might have been hiding in one of the bathroom stalls, but…

"One conversation, Spartan?"

"Shortly after I was brought aboard, we spoke briefly."

The Spartan II resisted the impulse to turn around when the door opened behind him.

"Commander Palmer are you giving my Spartan a hard time?"

Captain Lasky, of course. The familiar voice only confirmed what his senses reported. The captain didn't wear cologne, so Master Chief knew the natural scent of the man, the sound of his movement though the air and the rhythm of his footsteps.

Lasky walked directly up behind the Spartan and quickly squeezed the hands clasped behind the broad back. With the Spartan's size blocking his movement there is no way Commander Palmer could have noticed. Then as if nothing happened Lasky poured himself some coffee and indicated a chair to the Master Chief.

"Commander Palmer, I spoke very briefly to the Chief about giving him some meaningful work while he's here with us."

With the sharp eyes of an officer accustomed to judging the behavior and motivations of soldiers, she observed the two men. The Master Chief was still at parade rest, but something had distracted him a moment ago. Was it the entrance of the Captain or something the Captain said or did? There was something between them. She might be a better soldier than an intuitive woman, but there was chemistry between these two.

Palmer clicked something on her computer screen. Nodding her head, "The CMO released you to duty, Chief. Feel up to getting back to work?"

Now she was insulting him. While his respect and military bearing was always above question, he was unaccustomed to anyone speaking to him like this. Captain Keyes… No, not even the very serious and by-the-book Captain Keyes spoke to him in this antagonistic tone.

Master Chief pulled himself to attention, which brought him almost eye to eye with the woman in the armor. His shoulders rolled forward and with his deeply hooded indigo eyes he spoke directly into her face.

"Ma'am, _I am a Spartan II_ , UNSC Master Chief, call sign Sierra 117. I am up for whatever you wish to throw my way, _Commander._ "

Ah, he'd gotten his point across when he watched her eyes widen. Then it began with the flaring of her nostrils, then her brown velvet of her eyes light with inner fire. He was looking right at her and he watched the stern faced woman's face light up into a smile. Pink lips spread wide, revealing white teeth. The corners of her eyes crinkled. She was beautiful. He'd been right all along.

He also realized he'd just been had.


	6. The innocent had everything to fear

* * *

"Cheery was aware that Commander Vimes didn't like the phrase 'The innocent have nothing to fear', believing the innocent had everything to fear, mostly from the guilty but in the longer term even more from those who say things like 'The innocent have nothing to fear'." ― Terry Pratchett, Snuff

"Nothing looks so like innocence as an indiscretion." –Oscar Wilde

* * *

Spartan John-117 headed to the gym to clear his head about the past events concerning Captain Lasky and Commander Palmer. There were things he understood and some he did not. It's just that he never thought of it in reference to himself, or that the knowledge had little to do with real life.

Of course, he and his Spartan siblings received relevant information concerning biological interaction and probable results of sexual congress between men and women. One day, when they were about ten years old, an instructor they'd never met before talked about where babies came from. One of two of the students who no longer remembered their parents asked where they had come from and how they'd been born. The instructor hadn't answered their questions; she'd put her hand over her mouth, burst into tears and simply walked out of the room. Class over. No more questions.

Chief Mendez had personally come to into the classroom and excused them from class. The entire group headed straight to the library to do a little research. He had been looking over Fred's shoulder, when Linda and Kelly giggled. They flipped the page over when they realized he'd seen what they'd seen. That only caused more giggles and that had been enough for him. He'd just left the library and headed out for a long walk. Not embarrassed, exactly. He just felt there were more interesting things to think about. He was only ten, after all.

The next day it was business as usual and back out to the field for combat maneuvers. He and his Spartan brothers and sisters never did have time to discuss the lecture. When they did have time to talk, it was about important things like weapons training and earning their first assault rifle.

John shrugged his shoulders out of his uniform shirt and unbuckled his belt. Alone in the locker room, he took a moment to study his frame in the full-length mirror. The tank top followed the shirt to the bench, while he appraised his torso. Muscular he might be, but these were simply his tools. Large hands helped him grasp and hold, while his shoulders provided the advantage of superior leverage and strength. Long muscular legs helped him hold his position or move quickly.

He was trim because he never had the opportunity to overeat. Of course, he'd heard the marines talk about beer-belly, spare tire and guzzle gut. He'd also overheard something about love handles. Did that mean what he thinks it means? He'd never drank a beer in his life and by the flat and ridged abdomen, staring back at him it was obvious he didn't have a gut.

Pale skin overlaid with scars did not seem attractive to him, but then it was all just a mystery anyway. There was nothing in his deep-set blue eyes, and stern expression, which spoke of approachability. He thought of Captain Lasky's open and friendly smile. That smile had been granted under special circumstances and not in front of anyone but him. Had he caused the Captain to smile with such… had it been abandon, pleasure, or happiness? There'd been so much freedom in that smile. Perhaps he should ask someone. But whom? John thought about it while he slipped off his trousers and pulled on a pair of sweats.

The push of someone walking into him caught him by surprise and he put out a hand against the mirror.

"Oh, Chief! Sorry to bother you. I'm in such a hurry I wasn't paying attention. I'll be out of your way in two seconds." Instead of moving away, she pulled the towel off her head, "By the way, the answer is yes."

She'd caught him.

If he actually appeared uncomfortable, she ignored it. "I know what it's like, sir. We spend so much time in those armor shells we forget there's a human being underneath. Please don't be embarrassed, sir." She shrugged her shoulders, "Just ask." she followed up the offer with a warm smile.

"I don't know how to ask."

"Then, with your permission, sir." She waited for him to give his consent. When he nodded she continued, "First, after all you've been through, all your accomplishments and all you've lost there's not a female and a few men on this ship who wouldn't love to get a chance to provide you with some R&R, if you get my meaning, sir."

"Just doing my job," he shook his head.

When she stepped closer to him and he could smell the clean scent of her skin. Her short-cropped auburn hair looked soft enough to touch. Before he could stop himself, a large hand reached out.

"May I?"

Tedra Grant locked eyes with the shy Spartan nearly twice her age. "Permission granted, sir," she said with a sigh and leaned into the hand reaching toward her.

Fingers spread over the hair reflecting red and gold under the lights. The experience of soft brush of the close-cropped hair tickled against his palm. Beneath the hairline is a shell like ear, delicate and soft. Light reflected against the thin surface and he could see small veins.

"You are pretty?" He asked.

She laughed and he decided he liked the sound of it. "I don't think of it much. I have a job to do. A job, which has very little to do with whether I'm pretty or not."

"I understand." His fingers wrapped around her neck, while his thumb touched her jawline.

"Well? What do you think?" She grinned a challenge at him.

What did he think? He bent head to her cheek and inhaled. He felt her shiver under his hand and drew back in surprise.

"It's okay," she whispered, keeping the hand on her neck in place. A blush stole its way up her neck and into her cheeks.

"I-I like the way you smell and your smile makes me feel things…"

"Don't stop now. What things?" She asked and stepped close enough to carefully place her hands on his waist. "I'm being terribly impertinent, but this for science, right?"

Without realizing what he was doing, he pressed her head against his chest. He felt Tedra's long sigh and marveled at the myriad of sensations to experience outside his armor.

"What things, Chief?" Tedra decided to just enjoy the moment and listen to the heart pounding against her cheek. This man was not hers for the seducing. She knew that. But watching him look at her with such a bewildered look on his face, made her want to give what comfort she could to this charismatic and handsome man.

Against her cheek, he said, "there's something I want from you… something only you can give me. Is that right?"

The whispered words against her skin sent shivers down her spine. "Yes…" She turned her face against the taut warm skin of his chest. "Oh, yes."

"This is very nice, Ms. Grant. There seems to be much left for me to learn."

"GRANT! Finished your beauty treatment? Mission clock starts in ten minutes. You ain't that good looking to begin with. How long can it really take?" That was Hoya shouting at her from the entrance to the locker room.

The intrusion caused Master Chief to release the young woman immediately. The frown that crossed her features was not lost on the Spartan. He caught her chin. "Ms. Grant, he's wrong. You know that. You are pretty… and kind."

Her eyes lit up. "You know. It's nice to hear that occasionally. You just made a friend. Thank you, Master Chief."

John watched her leave, dressing as she hurried to catch up with her team. When she paused at the door to stomp on her boots, she gave him a quick smile and wave. Yes, she was pretty and when she smiled, even more so. That had gone pretty well, he thought, tying the laces of his cross trainers. He was definitely getting the hang of this.

The gym floor was empty, so he headed over to a treadmill to warm up. At ten miles, with sweat pouring off him, he finally began to relax. It felt good to move, this enforced inactivity was not his normal duty day. Duty day, he laughed softly. What normal duty day?

Reflecting that he'd lived on the fringe of the real world for his entire life he decided he would be open to exploring what this world had to offer. He could assist Commander Palmer with Spartan training. With his years of experience, he had much to offer these young recruits. Their discipline could use some tightening up, for one thing. They weren't Spartan IIs, but he wouldn't hold that against them and at least he had something to work with.

Another five miles and he began to slow his pace. Maybe he'd hit the free weights next. Then in the mirror, he noticed Commander Palmer approaching. She headed toward him, dressed in a tank and sweats, her hair swinging free from its usual style. Slowing the machine to a stop, Master Chief scrubbed the sweat off his face and neck.

"Ma'am."

"Good morning, Master Chief." She stopped next to the machine and looked up at him. Obviously, there was something on her mind. "I could use some practice on my hand to hand combat. In the mood for a little sparing?"

In the mood? He thought. What a curious concept.

Not about to admit it'd been years since he'd spared, he followed her to the mat. The armor and the added strength and speed gave him all the advantage he normally required. He wasn't in his armor and she was both younger and smaller. Both of which, lent her speed.

As they faced each other, he paid very close attention to her body language. To his surprise, he noticed how obviously she broadcasted her intentions. Interesting. Although, it could be a ploy. Covenant soldiers of all species didn't display much body language for him to study. Not that it mattered, they simply charged and aimed to kill. That strategy always made things easier on him in the field. They were always so predictable. Simply insuring they didn't flank him or overrun his position were the only issues. This female circling him, was an entirely different situation. Her eyes glanced to the left. He feinted right and out came her right foot aimed right at his head. Impressive, he mused, as he caught her heel and flipped her over on her back, not a bad reach.

Palmer leaps to her feet in one graceful movement and danced quickly away from the Chief. Well, he thought, might as well wade right in.

He swung a roundhouse with is left hand and blocked her defensive effort with his right. Palmer twisted away and turned the movement into a spinning kick. This time he watched it land on his sternum. He wouldn't be a gentleman, if he didn't allow her at least one hit. Then he reached out and grabbed her right arm, just at the moment she relaxed the punch and swept her feet out from under her.

He turned so he took her weight to the mat. She landed hard on his hips with a knee on each side. While she struggled to free her arms from his grasp, her anger flared. The strength of her legs and hips against his created another set of interesting sensations. He paused to study them, but that seemed to only increase her frustration.

"It won't do to lose your temper, Commander."

It grated on her nerves the way he pronounced every syllable. "I never lose my temper."

"Perhaps your frustration would lessen if I allowed you to beat me up."

"Beat you, up?"

He nodded, "No need to turn this into a Red vs. Blue moment. I'll just let you…"

The heat of his body pulsed into her legs and stole her breath at its intensity. "Enough of this," she said, out loud. Commander Palmer threw herself backward and managed to jerk her arms away from his impossibly large hands. A back flip landed her on her feet and she allowed the momentum to push her away. She kept her hands up and her stance alert while Master Chief rolled slowly to his feet.

"What's Red versus Blue?"

"You've never heard…? Never mind." He went for her and a gentle tap on her chin dropped her to her knees. She was up quickly and swung at him. The right cross landed perfectly on his jaw. Gratified to watch his eyes glaze, she made the mistake of taking that for weakness. She swung at him again and this time he simply picked her up by her forearms and backed her against the wall.

"Commander," he said, softly pronouncing each word and hoping she would understand without requiring too much explanation. "There's a reason I don't spar."

"Afraid you'll lose?"

He tightened his grip until their faces were inches apart. "I fail to understand your wish to antagonize me. I don't spar, because I have accidentally killed people with my strength and height. In my youth, I killed a marine when he came after me because I'd forgotten to tighten a plate to the weight bar. _I killed him._ It serves me well in the field. In the real world…" He let her slide to the floor, executed a precise about face, and headed for the locker room.

She followed him and when they were out of sight of the door, she grabbed his arm. "I'm not afraid of you."

"Good to know, ma'am. With your ODST experiences, I bet you're not afraid of anything."

"I think you're afraid of me," she stated, planting herself in front of the Spartan II.

"Ma'am. You are the commander of the Spartan contingent on this ship. I am enlisted. You are an officer. I prefer not to blur those lines. Excuse me." He grabbed a towel, stepped deliberately around her and headed for the showers.


	7. Terrible Temptations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AN: Before you start reading, remember this story is rated M. Enjoy. I can only hope I did them justice. I think I got it just about right though.

* * *

"Don't wait to be hunted to hide, that was always my motto."

― Samuel Beckett, Molloy

* * *

 

**One Month Ago…**

The gym, the bridge, inspections, meetings, sixteen-hour days, or twenty-hour days did nothing to dispel the churning need, or the tingling of anticipation on his skin, which caused his heart to skip a beat or two at unexpected times. Sleep, when he could claim it, woke him hard with need and sweating with desire. It's just a matter of time and strength of will until he successfully shuts it down. Simply a matter of time.

He refuses to touch himself, because he knows who is waiting for him behind his eyes when the release comes, the hands that touch him won't be his own. The dream is always the same and so he banned it from his awareness. Now it teases him and tempts fulfillment that is just beyond his reach, yet his for the asking. It's the man with the cobalt blue eyes, who claimed he'd always been with him. Whose simple touch of hands on his shoulders made him weak with a need that hadn't been met in longer than he could remember.

It's midnight, ship's time and he's hiding in his quarters. There's nowhere left for him to hide. Infinity is on a deep space assignment and they are light years from any port. Slamming his fist against his desk didn't help, either. Stupid, childish idea, which only made his hand hurt. He tossed back another scotch and like a man who must move or jump out of his skin, Captain Thomas Lasky paced his quarters, much like a trapped animal.

Zero-thirty hours, finds him sitting on his bed willing himself to sleep. He's having the usual lecture with himself when the chime to his door shatters his concentration. Ah, he could use a target right about now, so the poor sailor on the other side of that door will have a story to tell his mates. Lasky knows he shouldn't allow such a moment of unprofessionalism, but he's emotionally conflicted and exhausted and fuck it, he needs something to take his mind off the turmoil in his soul.

Lasky opens the door and finds himself lifted off the deck by a pair of very large hands. The small kitchen counter swept clear and he finds himself unceremoniously dropped on the counter. A large body insinuates itself between his knees, spreading his legs wide and hands larger than his head hold him still.

Fingers scrap into his hair. Harsh breath quivers against his cheeks and he breathes deep to take it all in. At last, the time has come. Lasky is undone, his control is gone, and it's okay now, because the Spartan will keep him safe. Although, he never really had the control to resist this man. He can admit it now. It took only one of them to make a move to ignite his need. It burns him now and he wraps both hands around the Spartan's neck and pulls him down to press his mouth against… anything really, he just needs to taste this man. To sate his desire in the flesh and scent of the man who's pinned him on the counter.

Lasky breathes a throaty groan into the meeting of their lips. He'd forgotten how sweet a kiss could be. How many years had he buried himself in his career… in work… never allowing himself a moment like this.

In spite of the ferocity of the Spartan's handling of Lasky, the kiss is chaste and slow; they explore the moment and allow it to draw out. Then everything stops and Lasky opens his eyes to find the Spartan's eyes closed and resting his forehead against his. This is beyond either of their experience and Lasky stays still just enjoying the moment of freedom.

Lasky removes the hands from his face and places a kiss in each palm. Fingers curl around his hands and face. The Spartan hisses a breath of impatience and moves his mouth over Lasky's. This time there is no hesitation and each man pulls the other closer until his lips seal together. Teeth crash together and get in the way, until Lasky pushes his tongue into the Spartan's mouth.

He responds by pulling the front of Lasky's shirt until it rips and tears the offending fabric from his shoulders.

Then touch becomes tentative, almost shy as the Spartan smoothed his hands over Lasky's torso. The Captain encourages him by arching his back against the hard chest. They roam across his shoulders and drift down his spine until they both pant with anticipation and need. The Spartan grips his bottom and presses him against his groin. Lasky can't hide it this time and lifts his hips to meet the Spartan's arousal with his own.

It's less a demonstration of dominance, as tongues dance and play, than petting to discover textures and reactions. This time the Spartan groans when Lasky sucks hard on his tongue. Impatient fingers open the Spartan's uniform and it follows the captain's shirt to the deck. Skin to skin they press close. But it's not close enough. It will never be enough. So they continue to strain and push toward it, because they cannot go back. To stop now, would mean an empty loneliness, which nothing would heal.

Ten minutes ago, Lasky might have disagreed with anyone who asked. Now he knows, although it's taken them thirty years to find each other again. This is where he belongs. This thing needs to happen before he can go on or take one more breath.

Lasky breaks the kiss to turn his head, exposing his neck to the Spartan's hungry mouth. He's a quick learner and soon he is memorizing the skin of Lasky's neck and shoulder with his lips and tongue. When his teeth scrape across Lasky's ear he gasps and manages to stay coherent long enough to open the Spartan's pants.

Lasky finds himself lifted up long enough for his own pants and socks to disappear. Then he watches as the Spartan stares at the metal counter and Lasky's bare bottom. Plucked off the counter and carried to the couch, Lasky is very quickly straddling the Spartan, while he shifts his own pants and kicks them off with his feet.

Now they find themselves skin to skin. Arousal to aching arousal Lasky moves his hips forward until they touch. He takes the Spartan's hands and wraps them around their straining cocks. It is too much, yet it is not enough and neither man can stop himself from moving into the sensation. The Spartan uses one hand under Lasky to hold him close and with the other slowly spreads his fingers over their arousals. Between the two of them, there is enough lubrication to make them unbearably slick and sensitive.

Lasky uses his hands to lift the Spartan's chin and kiss him again. He uses his tongue to mimic the motion he wants the other man to make with his hand. And when he does, Lasky cries out and pushes himself against the heat of the Spartan's hard desire. With eyes locked together, they make the decision to watch. Lasky sees the pale skin flush with passion. Next time he will ignite that path with his mouth.

The Spartan is lost in his own storm and inhales deeply to taste each sensation as it comes. The icy fire begins at the base of his spine. His hand pulls the fire up into their arousal. The heat of it burns his hand. So strange to touch something this vivid and intense with is bare hand. Glancing up at Lasky, they acknowledge what's about to happen. Next they'll go slow, next time…

Lasky, in reaction to the accidental scratch of the Spartan's fingernails across skin stretched tight enough to tear erupts with a startled cry of release. The Spartan watches in fascination as Lasky's orgasm ripples across his body. When he can, Lasky reaches down between them, cups the Spartan's testicles. With one finger grazes a path up the delicate skin of his perineum. The Spartan looks up in surprise. His reaction is immediate, as he rises off the couch lifting Lasky with him and sprays them both with hot semen.

Lasky falls against the Spartan and strong arms answer by holding him close.

They've used no words, because none was required. The Spartan shifts Lasky so he's more comfortable across his lap. Lasky allows his head to drop against the solid shoulder. Sticky with sweat and desire, they rest against each other. Finally, Lasky places his hand on the Spartan's cheek and shyly meets his eyes.

"Why, Sierra-117, I do believe you're blushing."

"If I am, know that it is not from embarrassment at what happened here."

"No embarrassment here either. I don't remember when anything felt more right and so damn hot," he said with a grin followed by a gentle kiss.

The Spartan shifted Lasky back on the narrow couch. With only as much of his weight as Lasky could tolerate, he leaned down over him to touch his lips to the Captain's.

"Tom?" He framed Lasky's face with his hands. "My name is John. I want to hear you say my name. Name me."

Lasky's heart softened at the simple yet serious request. Simple, that is, to everyone but a Spartan. "John. Your name is John. Thank you for sharing that with me. I know it's not something you let others know."

"Only my Spartan brothers and sisters know our real first names. Some of us are not sure if it is our real name or just the name given to us by Halsey."

"Whoa!" Laughing, Lasky threw his arms around the Spartan. "Let's leave Halsey out of any conversation were you and are laying naked together.

A chuckle rumbled from his chest. "Agreed. Although, I fear if we lay here much longer we'll be stuck together forever.

"Wait, don't move, yet. I don't want this moment to end."

John shook his head; the movement ghosted his nose over the Captain's cheeks. "It need never end; simply move naturally to another moment."

"Very philosophical, but there's no way both of us can fit in that shower."

John laughed again. He still wasn't accustomed to hearing himself make that sound. "Perhaps we can be creative. Come with me."

The Spartan closed the door behind them and turned up the heat. With towels spread on the floor, he adjusted the water to a comfortable temperature.

"Come here, Tom."

"Wait, you don't have to…"

"I want to…"

There was no way he could stay on his feet with strong soapy hands moving over his body. Sweet Jesus… he had no memory of this, because no one had ever touched him this way… or taken the time. On the other hand, had he simply never allowed anyone this close? Large strong hands slid down over the cheeks of his ass and long fingers met inside, sweeping innocently over the tight opening.

"John!"

Never one to back down from an interesting challenge, John repeated the movement. Lasky came up on his toes and sank his teeth into the Spartan's pectoral muscle. The third attempt brought Lasky's cock back to life and he realized what he'd done when he felt it slip against his thighs.

Covering Lasky's mouth with his own, he mimicked Lasky's earlier motion by slipping his tongue in and out of the man's mouth. Lasky's entire body shook with need. The Spartan backed him against the wall. With one hand gently stroking between his cheeks, John brought him quickly to orgasm with his soapy hand. Lasky jerked against the Spartan, trembling and shouting the Spartan's name against his chest. The Spartan held him until the shuddering subsided and his breathing slowed.

Never, not once in his entire life and he felt so out of control. The feelings both exhilarated him and frightened him. Before he simply passed out, he reciprocated the favor by gently washing the Chief's massive body. Each scar earned a kiss as he rinsed the pale skin.

When the water finally turned cold, the Spartan lifted the captain in his arms and carried him easily to the bed. John laid them both down, spooning his body behind Lasky and covering them both with a sheet and blanket.

Morning would be soon enough to sort out the details. Sleep claimed them quickly while they rested safe and comfortable within the new world they'd just created for themselves.


	8. Terrible Temptations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AN: Sigh... Don't think I'm not ashamed and disappointed in myself now that I've sunk to using words like cock and spurt in this chapter.

* * *

"The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it." - Oscar Wilde

* * *

Rising through layers of sleep, John took the time to appreciate the luxury of waking up naturally. As for gathering new experiences? Waking up naked in another man's bed had moved to first place. The Spartan lay very still with his eyes closed and thought about how he'd arrived at this point of sleeping with the Commanding Officer of the UNSC Infinity. This was a big ship and it's not as if they were the only couple waking in each other's arms this morning. They weren't the only couple on this ship to enjoy a sexual encounter. Along with the soft words, strong arms filled with warmth and acceptance, this morning beats the hell out of waking up in a cryo pod.

Although he'd rarely heard the phrase 'making love' in the military world he'd grown up in, the things he felt and experienced last night must have something to do with love. And just now, as Tom rolled over and spread out across his chest, tucking his head under the Spartan's chin, this sensation of safety and reception, must fall somewhere along the definition of love. Again, he had more questions than answers.

The hand brushed across his chest, came to rest on his cheek. "You might as well open your eyes; I can tell you're awake."

"If you wish."

"On second thought, keep them closed, then I can kiss you good morning… morning breath and all."

"Morning breath?"

Lasky covered the Spartan's lips with passion and thorough kiss. Yet the man drew away again. Hmm, what was he doing wrong?

"Why must the eyes be closed?"

He gave up and rested his chin on his hands, gazing up at the Spartan. Might as well answer him. "To appreciate the sensation, besides looking at someone that close up is... well, I don't know. It's traditional, I guess. Now, the morning breath? During sleep bacteria grows in our mouth and gives us bad breath. The usual phrase is morning breath, there's a few more, but we'll save them for the next time we wake up in my bed together."

The Captain shivered when John pushed the blankets down and began to run his hands over his naked back.

"'Next time'. I like the sound of it."

"We agree then. There will most certainly be a next time. Anymore questions or might I continue our good morning kiss?"

The Spartan rose up and curled himself around the Captain. "Many, but let's continue the kiss. I enjoy the taste of you."

While he let himself dissolve into the Spartan's embrace, Lasky thought that was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him. Would the Spartan also enjoy the taste of...? Oh, that woke him up! His usual morning wood just sprouted like a… and pressed against John's thigh. The instinct to push was undeniable. Then John has discovered it and…those hands.

"John!"

"I learned the human body has many sensitive areas. The lips for one and certainly this, he said innocently pulling gently, causing Tom to gasp and squirm. "Does this require a good morning kiss, as well?"

"Well, no. But…" Oh, this was all just a little too much out of the ordinary. "Yes, if you want to. But, you don't have to…"

Before he could move away, John took him into his mouth. All of him. All at once. All at one time. He was probably going to have a heart attack. His felt his legs fell open, when John's tongue reached down and licked the sack below his cock. Oh, fuck. Who in the fucking universe could manage such a thing…? A Spartan, that's who… Lasky arched up like a pulled bow and caught the Spartan's hips to him on the way down. John tried to twist away, but Tom held on tight. Must not be fighting too hard, he thought, because if John didn't want this too he could certainly prevent it.

He was a fair man and if John planned to drive him mad, then the least he could do was return the favor. Romantic even, if they both go together. Captain Thomas Lasky took a long look into the unknown, took a deep breath, and applied his mouth to the nodding erection staring him in the face. The effect was immediate. John's hips responded, watering Tom's eyes the Spartan's cock hit the back of his throat. Several minutes past worrying about etiquette — was there etiquette for blowjobs? Of course, no teeth — he simply gave in to the wild abandoned.

"First one to lose it buys breakfast," Tom managed before reapplying himself to the exotic taste and feel of man's penis in his mouth. More than just erotic, and exhilarating, it's an intensely personal act of giving. Straining and pushing against each other, they were locked in a dance of passion.

Then all thoughts fled Tom's mind when John scraped his teeth gently from the base of his cock to the very tip. It seemed, Tom had forgotten, or didn't know how competitive the man in his bed really was and did not intend, even the experience of every nerve in his body thrumming to the beat of Tom's tongue and his own heartbeat, to buy breakfast.

The stoic Captain felt his body respond to the unexpected intensity of teeth and bucked hard. Desire flowed through his body, lasering in on the connection of himself buried in John's mouth and erupting down the Spartan's throat. Tom screamed the man's name as he came repeatedly, locked into John's mouth and held immobile, until it was over.

John shifted himself to sit up where Tom could see him. Chest heaving, Tom's eyes widened, when the Spartan took himself in hand, stroking himself languidly. Deliberately holding Tom's eyes, until his body shuddered and released, spurting cum over this chest and hands.

"Come here, now."

John obliged his commanding officer by gathering Tom into his arms and stretching out on the bed.

"You've been studying, Master Chief."

"No, but I think I got rid of the morning breath."

Tom laughed with a happiness, which warmed and comforted him. They lay silently in each other's arms. Until Roland gave a verbal warning that the first officer and Commander Palmer were looking for him.

The Captain heaved a long sigh and pushed himself up. "No matter what else is new this morning, I'm still the Captain of this boat. But, you leave first."

"Tom?" The Spartan pulled the Tom back into his arms. "The last twelve hours… never happen again… I will never forget this time with you."

"Of course, it will happen again, but right now, we've got to move." He playfully gave the Spartan a push.

Twenty minutes later, showered and shaved, Master Chief is two steps from Lasky's door when Commander Palmer steps into the corridor.

"Ma'am."

Palmer looked him up and down. "That uniform is a mess, Master Chief. Did you sleep in it?"

"Of course, not."

Her eyes narrowed. "Everything okay?"

"It's a fine Navy day, Ma'am."

The Spartan took a hard left, disappeared down a hatchway and slid down a ladder just to put some space between the two of them.

Back in his cabin, Lasky straightened his quarters. "Thanks Roland. I appreciate what you did."

"Just taking care of my CO, sir. Commander Palmer is speaking to another officer two doors down. Judging from the topic of their conversation, I'd say you have three minutes before she knocks on your door. Those size 18 socks and dog tags will not bear close scrutiny."

"Shit!"

Roland appeared, nodding as he inspected the room. "Bathroom door closed. Bed squared away. Room tidy. Evidence Secured."

Just as Roland predicted the door chimed.

"Enter!"

Roland continued talking, deftly switching topics, "Understood, sir. Schedule recorded and posted. Good Morning Commander Palmer. The Captain and I were just finishing up so I'll be on my way." Roland snapped a smart salute and disappeared.

Captain Lasky said the first thing that came to mind, "Coffee, Sarah"?

They both saw it at the same time. A second coffee mug sat innocently next to the small sink. He decided to ignore it.

With the cup in her hand, the Commander surveyed the kitchen counter. "I see you finally cleared the counter. Interesting way to clear the clutter; tossing it to the floor like this."

There was really no use trying to hide this from her. Observant, smart and detail oriented, she was taking it all in.

"And, if I peeked in the bathroom, I bet I'd find a second towel."

"You might. Sarah?"

"No worries, Tom. Duty first, right?"

"Still, it's bothering you. Is it?"

"I'm happy for you," she said softly with the coffee mug in her hand.

"You don't look happy."

She gave him a sardonic smile, "Difficult to absorb the fact that the only two men I ever found interesting and attractive are only attracted to each other. Always, thought someday there would be enough time to get at least one of them better."

"I didn't know."

Dammit, maybe he had known. He had a ship to run and well, how many excuses could he come up with? He doubted any of them would take the hurt out of this woman's eyes.

"Forget about it, Tom. The time would never come anyway."

"You and I carry more responsibility on a daily basis than most do in a lifetime and here we are so scared of admitting something personal we can't put a sentence together."

"Was it nice, Tom? Being touched, cared for?" The look in her eyes, told him she wasn't kidding. He answered her honestly.

Yes, it was wonderful. I'd forgotten… I won't allow myself to forget again." He walked up behind her, "Have you forgotten, Sarah?"

"Yes, I chose this life and career with my eyes wide open. Now I have the bad manners to be jealous of you two."

"I depend on your friendship. The two of us need a stable working relationship to run this ship. But, I never wanted to screw that up so I never acted on my feelings or said anything."

She waved her hand and headed toward the door. It was just so sudden, she told herself. Just a little bit of a shock. "You're not obligated to say anything. I'm a Spartan, no heart, just ice water."

"That's not true. I know a Spartan who fearlessly showed me his heart last night. It's a generous and loving heart and I think you have one too. I see it every day. I'm proud to call you friend."

"But never, lover?"

"Well, I… To tell you the truth I'd probably have kissed you by now, but I don't have a stepladder."

She grinned. "I'd put you on the kitchen counter for a moment like that, but I think it's already been done."

Lasky couldn't stop the blush creeping up his neck. "You could just bend down… a little."

"And what would the Spartan, who just assured me it was a fine Navy day, have to say about that?"

Lasky slipped his hand around Sarah's neck and pulled her down to him. Just before his mouth touched hers, "I think it's very possible, he'd demand a turn."

The duty day had begun and calls for both of them intruded on the moment.

"You have a fine Navy day, Marine. Turn to, Commander."

Captain Lasky watched her leave and managed to wipe the grin off his face before heading up to the bridge.


	9. Terrible Temptations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, my! I wrote some dialogue for the Master Chief, which has me thinking about asking the DJ who does MC's voice over to record it for me... giggle... fangirl. You'll recognize it when you read it. €. €

* * *

"You don't love someone for their looks, or their clothes, or for their fancy car, but because they sing a song only you can hear." - Oscar Wilde

* * *

 

**One Week Ago…**

Lost in thought, Captain Lasky sprawled in the pilot's chair of Pelican Nine-Sixer with his head resting on his hand. Every few minutes, he moved slightly and he would have to move again soon. Certain parts of his anatomy were not useful for sitting just now. The seats were never designed for slouching anyway and became more uncomfortable every time he shifted. Staying upright to walk out here to the flight deck had been an interesting exercise in self-control. Then why hadn't he stayed where his was? Comfortable, warm and…

Because he was a coward, that's why. Nothing but a coward. The paper crushed in his hand and what came after the and is also what drove him here. The word and its meaning brought him here to sort through his feelings. Words like, conjunction, unification, aggregation, union, and concurrence. Yes, all of the above. Dammit, men didn't worry about feelings, emotions, or the profound knock-your-heart-to-your-feet moment, when a Spartan looks you in the eye and asks how to give you everything that he is, because that's what his heart compels him to do.

None of that mattered anymore, Lasky bitterly reminded himself, pounding his frustration on the arm of the chair. He'd just received an official communication from UNSC Command. The contents of which, crushed in his hand, he was just beginning to comprehend.

Earlier in the evening, just after chow and the evening briefing, Lasky found himself at the Master Chief's door. Although they'd made an agreement to enjoy at least one meal together during their busy duty day, the Spartan had been absent for both the meal and the briefing. When they were together, he never wanted to part from him. When he was away from him, he planned ways to get back to his side. His heart thrummed in excitement and expectation as the door opened when he approached the sensor. The room is dark, lit only by the safety lighting around the base of the walls. The familiar shape of the Master Chief is outlined on the far side of the bunk. The big man sat on the floor staring at something in his hands.

Captain Lasky approached slowly and sat down on the bed next to the Spartan. Now he sees the holographic image of Cortana in John's hands.

"She's beautiful, Chief. All I got was an irascible A.I. in a World War II uniform. I want a pretty one like yours."

"I would give my life, to make that happen for you. Tom…" his voice fractured, tired and worn. "If it would bring her back…"

He placed his hands on the Spartan's shoulders. There were no words to take the pain of the man's grief away, but he could sit here with him.

"Grieve if you need to. Let me help you find some peace…" Because, he thought, when I tell you the truth, it will shatter what we've found together. "I'm here… my love… my beautiful Spartan."

If Lasky wasn't aware of what he'd just said, John heard it and like a key turning in an ignition he responded by pulling Tom onto his lap. The Spartan captured the man's mouth, pressing his lips with an aggressive passion that only hinted at the words he wanted to say. Although he had no clear understanding, of what was going on between them or the depth of his feelings. No one had ever driven him to feel so out of control and yet, so cherished.

Tom relaxed into the fierce embrace, understanding he shouldn't expect anything more than what happened between them at this moment. Obviously, John still grieved for Cortana. Of course, he did. Cortana had been his anchor and partner. Tom released John from the kiss and tried to pull away, but John forced him back.

The Spartan teased him with is tongue, making Tom forget about everything and squirm, curling into him and pushing his body against his.

"John… wait."

"You know… I… tell me what you know because I have no words for this. Things to say… what this means."

Just a little more time. He could allow himself just a little more time with this man. One final moment to share and enjoy this man's embrace. Tom kissed him gently and began opening his shirt, "I don't think either one of us is very good at this. Just say it…"

"I want to give you everything. Make you happy. That's what this means to me when I am with you. This thing… these words, is this love? Words expressing emotions I've never known?"

The Spartan stood with Tom in his arms and laid him gently on his bed. "Tom, I want to give… take it."

Then John was silent as he removed the Captain's clothes allowing his fingers to trail over the firm lines and soft body hair. The Spartan stood and slowly removed his own clothes. After he joined the man on the bed, John slowly kissed him joining their saliva and allowing Tom to lick his hand and spread the shared kiss over his hand.

The warmth of his palm and the eroticism of what John was doing shattered any control Tom thought he might have. With a quick movement, the Spartan rolled them over so Tom was lying full length on John's body. The shock of his weight against the Spartan's arousal nearly undid him and he his begin to push.

"Take what I offer."

Caution made Tom pause. What was he implying? All that did was give the man beneath him time to open his legs and allow Tom to fall into position.

"What?" Tom pushed himself away. "Are you sure? Do you even know…?"

But John could easily override his lover's hesitation by simply closing his legs around Tom and pulling him in. Tom felt the Spartan's hand between his legs, wetting him with their kiss and guiding… Oh, God.

Without support, Tom fell into the Spartan's heated depths, grinding his jaw together to hold back the scream. Tight and hot, the experience, of being caught in another man's body, took him completely and terrifyingly by surprise. Suddenly he's balanced on the Spartan's much wider hips.

"John, are you ok…"

"Move. Please… move…"

"Wait. We can't…"

John lifted the man with his legs and let him drop against his hips. The white heat of the friction and the slap of his testicles against John's ass pushed him into a spiraling orbit of passion. When John hesitated again, the Spartan whispered, softly and urgently into his ear, "Fuck me or I will turn you over and take you first."

Everything but the two of them forgotten and blind with desire, Tom's knees found purchase on the mattress. With his hands balanced on the Spartan's legs he began to move. When he found his rhythm, he wrapped a hand around John's straining cock and began to work his hand over it to the rhythm of his driving hips.

"Is this what you want?" Tom gasped.

The Spartan's answer was to lift Tom again and allow him to drop. He cried out at the wanton effect of the action, this intensely personal and passionate act of ownership. Sweat beaded on Tom's lip and he forced John's legs back against his chest, using the advantage to increase depth and penetration.

Through the haze of his lust and excitement, Tom remembered something. One of those bits of information that float around with no real use and Tom allowed the Spartan's legs to relax. Shifting his weight, he angled himself as he thrust deeply to bump against his prostate. John groaned and thrashed, pushing back against friction.

Desperately wanting to kiss him again, instead Tom crooned lust soaked whispers of encouragement to the man beneath him. Their words echoed around the room as the new lovers chased their orgasms.

"Harder?"

A hoarse groan rumbled from deep within John as he nodded his head. John ground his teeth together to keep from yelling Tom's name as wave upon wave of pleasure crashed over him, buffeting him like a stormy ocean and pushing him to the brink of madness.

The feel of John's ass gripping him and the knowledge he was the one who made John's body tremble was Tom's undoing. His orgasm is building, ready to explode at any moment. He gripped John's hips, digging his fingers in the muscles and slammed repeatedly inside of John until his balls tightened up against his body.

Tom fisted John's cock, while his thumb caressed the thick head with every stroke. Matching the rhythm of his thrusts with his hand. Repeatedly stroking the length of him, only to pause until the Spartan begged for release, it wasn't until John was a quivering mass of need beneath him that he led them both over the edge.

"Never… like this... " He felt the release in the shimmer of white light against his eyelids . The dark brown eyes of the man beneath him blown with passion. The frieze of electricity down his spine. There was nothing this time to keep him quiet as he shouted the Spartan's name. Hot tears burned his eyes, he was lost, helpless and suddenly irretrievably in love.

Strong hands petted him down. Very soon Tom began to move again. A glance at the Spartan show him the man lost in the sensations of the moment. Kissing his way down the rigid muscles. Tom stroked his tongue from Spartan's naval to the tip of his cock.

John shivered, while Tom watched his body react to his efforts.

"You look so good, John. So beautiful." Tom made the rigid cock as wet as he could. Remembered how much pain he'd been in that time Needler round penetrated his thigh, took a long breath for courage and slowly lowered himself over the Spartan.

John reacted by sitting up and grabbing Tom around the waist. All he accomplished was pushing Tom completely down until his ass rested on the Spartan's thighs. He clung to the Spartan when he began to move. With his face buried in his neck, he spoke words of love and passion into the heated flesh. It was profound and it was too much. His chest heaved and he breathed in short gasps to the Spartan's primal rhythms. Then wide-eyed, Tom watched John's release and felt… dear god he could feel the hot semen flow deep inside, burning him with its passion and intensity.

They watched each other as they came down from the high. When the Spartan turned his face away, Tom saw the shine of tears. That moment solidified the meaning of this relationship. He couldn't lose the Spartan. But he would and there was nothing he could do about it. It wasn't pleasant to be the CO of the flagship of the UNSC Fleet, only to discover there's one thing you can't bend to your will.

Tom buried his face under the Spartan's chin. "It's okay, John. It will be okay." He felt the same emotion as those tears on John's face roughened his own voice.

But it wouldn't be okay. Not anymore. Captain Lasky pushed himself to his feet and stared out the windshield. Not a single one of his small silly dreams would come true and he was a fool to have thought otherwise. That's what brought him out to the Pelican seeking privacy and answers. He should have listened to Sarah…

"Captain?"

"Master Chief, I didn't hear you come in. What can I do for you?"

The confused look on the Chief's face began to chip away at his heart. He'd just hand the most incredible sex of his life with this man, not an hour ago.

"You left."

"Yes, well duty calls. Right?"

"Sir, Spartans IIs were provided an academic education equal to a college degree. I enjoy the convoluted wording of e.e. cummings's poetry, the magic of Shakespeare's prose and the mythological constructs of human history. The methodology and history of military strategy and tactics and how to make use of them on the battlefield. Tom… I'm field medic certified, yet I know nothing of the human heart. Only what you have shown me… what I learned from your responses… the feel and the taste…"

"That's enough." Captain Lasky stood and straightened his uniform tunic. "You're about to cross a line. I don't accept insubordination from my officers and certainly not from my senior NCOs. Kindly remember that, Master Chief."

"Aye, sir." The Master Chief straightened his shoulders. "I will not make that mistake again. Captain Lasky, may I be dismissed?"

"Of course."

When the Chief was gone and he was alone again, Lasky dropped back into the chair and wondered if this was the pain of his heart breaking. He'd just hurt that man. A man he was in love with. Yes, he could admit that now. But it was better this way and make it easier for John to leave. He scrubbed his face with his sleeve and opened the paper he'd been clutching in his hand

**CLASSIFICATION: TOP SECRET**

**TO: MASTER CHIEF, SIERRA-117. SPARTAN CONTINGENT UNSC INFINITY**

**FROM: UNSC CENTRAL COMMAND HQ**

**MEMBER IS ORDERED TO REPORT NLT 0600 TO ADMIRAL SNYDER FOR MISSION BRIEFING. ADDITIONAL INSTRUCTIONS TO FOLLOW STATION ARRIVAL. PROCEED IMMEDIATELY. THREE DAYS TRAVEL TIME SCHEDULED. PERSONAL LEAVE IS NOT AUTHORIZED.**

**CLASSIFICATION: TOP SECRET**

_John, don't leave me._ Tom covered his face with his hands. ... _damn coward_.

About 150 feet away from the Pelican, standing on a catwalk, Sarah Palmer observed the Master Chief emerge from the aircraft. She knew Captain Lasky was still in the aircraft and hadn't followed the Chief. She waited a full fifteen minutes and still no Captain. Protocol dictated she voice her concerns to the First Officer. She had no intention of telling anyone. Whatever was going on between those two was their business. But she had to be sure and she cared too much for Tom not to check on his welfare.


	10. Terrible Temptations

* * *

"Women are meant to be loved, not to be understood." - Oscar Wilde

* * *

Captain Lasky was still sitting inside the Pelican when Commander Palmer walked up the ramp. The anguished man had come full circle blaming himself for his treatment of the Chief. He reminded himself he had a ship to run, and that had always been true. What a fool he'd been to think anything could change. He'd rejected and hurt that man to make it easier for him to leave. What did that make him? A coward. Nothing but a coward. That admission lanced through his thoughts leaving him nearly incapable of any other.

Commander Palmer sat down quietly in the co-pilot's chair.

~o0o~

In Spartan Town, on deck S, the Master Chief sat in the same position the Captain had found him several hours before. The holographic image of Cortana reflected her familiar colors against his face and eyes."I made a mistake, Cortana," he said softly. Gently rubbing his thumb over her image. "You always knew the right thing to do." The Spartan let his head drop back against the mattress. Until finally dozed off with images of Cortana's smiling face teasing him, then ruthlessly changing to images of Captain Lasky. The remaining hours of the night left him restless and miserable.

~o0o~

The stale air of Pelican's flight deck shimmered with Palmer's frustration and Lasky's stubborn refusal to understand her point. She decided to put it in simpler terms for him.

"You fucked up, Captain."

"It was for the better. Don't you have Spartans to train? Leave."

"You dangled love, affection, and stability in front of a man who knew nothing of that and when it became inconvenient, you threw it back in his face."

"He has orders… He's leaving. I made it easier for him to leave."

"Before you shoved that energy sword into his heart, did you even consider that he may not know about his orders?"

"He must know by now…" Lasky swiped a hand over his face and made a complete mess of his hair.

"That idiot Comm officer, who shouldn't be assigned on anything more complicated than a harvester hasn't given them to him yet."

"But… that means…"

"Yes! It means you're sulking in here, with seventeen thousand plus crew wondering why they haven't heard from their CO in twenty-four hours. Your XO is admirably covering for you, by the way. You owe him a bottle of Scotch. Now, get up off your ass…"

Lasky came out of his seat. "Watch it, Palmer."

"No. No, sir. I'm not going to watch it, but I am going to make it right. Good day, Captain."

"Sarah, wait."

He followed her to the bottom of the ramp and stopped. Several of the deck crew were watching him. With a deep breath, Captain Thomas Lasky pulled his command face back on. The pain forgotten or just endured because realistically he thought he deserved it. He went in search of the familiar things of his command. He'd start with the Comm officer.

~o0o~

The Master Chief woke from his restless sleep feeling worse than before. A headache, which he'd never experienced before, had bloomed behind his eyes while he slept. Now it pounded with the beat of his heart. Willing himself off the floor, he set the image of Cortana back in the drawer and went in search of a hot shower.

Twenty minutes later, the Master Chief stood in the Senior NCO Galley, glaring at the server until the young petty officer piled his plate so high with eggs, bacon, sausage and hash browns the food threatened to roll off the plate.

"Cheese."

The server didn't argue and covered the mass of food with a fist full of shredded cheese. The Chief grabbed four mugs of coffee and a fresh bottle of ketchup before locating a table nearly hidden in a corner behind a row of plastic plants coated with the greasy dust of a thousand meals.

Ketchup. The Master Chief unscrewed the spout from the bottle and generously covered his food with the red sauce. Sometimes he missed ketchup more than he missed the coffee. The first cup he downed in one gulp. The second he savored, probably brewing since First Watch, strong, thick, and bitter enough to set a Brute back a few paces, just the way he liked it.

Eating his food in silence, Master Chief, managed to keep his thoughts at bay until spoonful of ketchup-draped hash browns triggered a memory of a day when he was about ten years old. Fred had tried to play a trick on him by hiding all the ketchup. The young John retaliated by hiding all the packets of sugar, which he knew Fred hoarded and snuck back to his room. The resulting contest of wills erupted into a food fight. He shook his head and remembered it was Kelly who'd shouted, "ROLL CALL!"

But it was Linda who pulled the dinner rolls from the kitchen freezer. Once they realized what excellent missiles, those frozen rolls made. And damn it hurt when they hit you. It wasn't long before tables were turned on their sides, and a battle ensued.

Halsey and Mendez entered the room, just about the time John's team was negotiating a prisoner exchange between Kelly and Sam.

When Chief Mendez called them to attention, a roomful of ten-year-olds slowly crawled to their feet. Naomi had an entire serving bowl of lime Jell-O clinging to the front of her uniform. Fred appeared to be bleeding to death. Halsey barely contained her relief when it turned out to be nothing more than the spaghetti sauce for the evening meal. While Kelly and Linda, attempting to take possession of a strategic position, had fought it out with chocolate pudding...All the chocolate pudding.

Just before they were discovered, Kelly had slipped and connected the side of her face with the edge of a countertop. John held a cloth full of ice cubes gently to her cheek, trying to ease the swelling around the growing bruise as they watched Halsey and Mendez enter the room.

Their punishment? It took them twenty-four hours to clean that mess hall, including the kitchen and washing all the dishes by hand. Then they each had to write a twenty-page report, including ten references, detailing the causes, effects, strategies and tactics of the battle.

Master Chief wiped the last of the egg from his plate with a piece of toast and sat back to finish his third cup of coffee. A slender hand set a cup of coffee down in front of him and slid into a seat.

"Mind if I join you, Master Chief?" Commander Palmer didn't wait for an answer; she sat down and sipped at her coffee while she watched the inscrutable man across from her.

"May I help you, Ma'am?"

"Yes. Don't call me ma'am."

"Yes, ma'am."

She thumped herself against the back of the chair with an aggravated sigh. "Chief, I have information to share with you. But I want your promise that you'll stay here and talk to me for a little while after I give it to you. Or we could go somewhere else to talk if you'd rather?"

"This is fine."

"Remember that I offered." Then she hit a button on her comm device, and the Chief's device answered with a ding. She caught his arm before he could look at the message. "Also remember that I said, I'm sorry."

His orders appeared on the small screen. His face is unreadable as he studies the text. "So that's why…"

"Yes, that's why. The idiot."

"Commander… that's unfair."

The injured look on his face lets her know she'd gone too far. At least she got a response out of him. She touched his sleeve with the tip of her finger. "Take a walk with me?"

When they were well away from ears and eyes, Palmer swallowed hard. "I'm perfectly aware this is none of my business. But I won't stand by and watch the two people I admire and care about most in the world be in pain. And be so stupid!"

"Does Tom know this?"

"Of course, he does. I told him I noticed the chemistry between you two immediately. Do you know?" She locked eyes with him and dared him to look away. "Do you understand, John?"

"I am beginning to. We have responsibilities."

"Oh, yes. We can't forget responsibilities! You're in charge of saving humanity, and it's all on your shoulders. He has seventeen thousand crew and a multi-trillion dollar ship to take care of. I have three hundred Spartan egos under my charge. It's my responsibility to send them out to die. Too many of them go and never come back. MIA or KIA it doesn't matter those active, young, and brilliant Spartans follow my orders and go to their deaths. You? You can't even take the time to grieve, or rest or… Goddammit!"

"Sarah, don't…"

"I am not crying!" She shoved his hands away. "Spartans don't cry and they don't take time to tell a man how much they care about him or that he's handsome and she's very much afraid that one word from him and she'd do something really clichéd like fall in love with him. Ridiculous idea!"

He stopped her with a touch and cupped her cheek in his hand. "Tell him now, Commander. He may need more than just your friendship."

Sarah Palmer didn't need to stand on her toes or bend down to reach this man. She looked him directly in the eye and returned the gesture. Her thumb gently rubbed across his lower lip. He sucked a breath and began to move away.

"You're the most interesting man I've ever met," she followed the statement by pressing her cheek to his.

He froze.

"Handsome and mysterious," and before she backed away, Sarah took a moment to inhale his scent, savoring the precious elements that made up the man named John.

"Tom needs you. I am nothing more than an empty shell."

"Then let me help." Contrary to her words, she pushed him away. "Come to my quarters tonight."

"No," he was already shaking his head. "No."

"Come to my quarters tonight, 1800, and that's an order, Master Chief."

~o0o~

At 1730, her door chimed. Sarah Palmer checked herself in the mirror and chuckled at her reflection. "Now or never, Marine. Feet First."

Then in walked Captain Lasky and her insides took a slow summersault. She'd told him arrive earlier so the two wouldn't meet at her door and bolt. All her usual bravado deserted her, and a pounding heart interfered with her ability to breathe. She stood still while the Captain took a long look at the Spartan—turned woman—standing in front of him.

Nothing fancy, the clothes she wore were soft and comfortable. The gold and brown tones matched her complexion perfectly and the soft fabric draped over her feminine curves. Rich sable-brown hair fell around her face giving her a girlish look that any man would misjudge as childish at his own peril. Her lips were shiny and soft, her lips parted. The eyes that held his were full of something unexpressed.

He knew her, from a hundred staff meetings, covered in dirt and gore, stinking of purple Covenant blood, exhausted, injured, and weary, she was always beautiful and courageous to him. But this woman standing in front of him, soft curves and tantalizing scent, clutching her hands together and—dear God—the need to touch her grew like an infection, winding its way through his bloodstream and igniting the need to claim and possess.

Well then, isn't he was fickle bastard? Now he could add that to his list. The list that began with the word 'coward'.

"You're right, Sarah. I am an idiot." In two steps he is by her side, squeezing her fingers and pressing her knuckles to his lips. When he felt her fingers spread across his neck and shoulder, he kissed the inside of her wrist.

Before he can go further, a large hand suddenly tipped his head up and he's staring into the storm tossed depths of John's blue eyes. Time stops as the two men stare, the woman standing between them forgotten.

"My mistake, sir. I shall withdraw before I make a second error."

Two hands reached toward him, one with a grip almost as strong as his and the second, a touch he could not ignore.

"I invited you here to enjoy a meal away from duty and obligation. Will you both join me?" A gesture toward the table yielded nothing.

At first, she thought they might leave. Now it seemed as if they would continue to stare at each other as if she weren't in the room.

"So… the steaks are done and I don't want to waste… I think I'll take off all my clothes and run down the center of the armory. What do you two think?"

"I trust your judgment, Commander. You know that."

Wisdom told her to stay quiet and let the moment play out. So she poured herself a glass of wine and seated herself at the table. Although she tried not to watch, the charisma and chemistry between the two men vibrated between them like plucked harp strings.

"This world we live in is filled with violence and death. You might be a symbol of that world, but I thought I saw something in you. Something I thought I was ready for or worthy … all I did was…"

"Tom, I am not so fragile."


	11. Terrible Temptations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AN: Well, my goodness! The things that go on inside the Infinity! Someone should supervise these kids better.

* * *

"We are war brothers. Kiss me good-bye." (10.70) Ernest Hemingway. _A Farewell to Arms_

* * *

 

_**The present...** _

_…A gentle hand on his cheek directed his gaze down to a pair of brown eyes set in a boyishly handsome face. The man moved closer and wrapped his arms around the Spartan's powerful torso, pressing his cheek against the firm chest. A feminine hand crept over his hips, and the Spartan smiled with pleasure when he felt their fingers intertwined over his stomach._

_The sensations and the promise of haven in the touch and reflective brown eyes, of the man so trustingly curled against the body of a trained killer, who dared him to take a chance on living._

_Suddenly, with a sharp intake of breath over an unexpected lance of pain, the Spartan realized, that Cortana hadn't been his first thought when opened his eyes…_

_Lasky felt John's breathing falter and hitch. Tom pulled away and raised his head, "Hey."_

_"I've had enough of losing people."_

_The Spartan didn't need to talk about feelings or loss or if he would survive a mission without Cortana. Instead, the Spartan imprisoned Tom in his arms and let his eyes_ to drift _closed. As he stroked his hands up and down Tom's back, he remembered the night he just spent with the woman and this man and the unending affection they shared with him._

The yielding softness of Sarah's body, he inhaled deeply and found the scent of her skin still clinging to him. He'd been humbled by the generosity of her spirit and gentle, yet insistent touch when she invited him to join with him.

The dinner had been excellent and the conversation interesting. They laughed easily together and talked about the books they'd read and the books they intended to read, when they had time. So comfortable that John let down his guard enough to admit something to Sarah.

"I didn't understand that you were teasing me that day."

"Teasing you?" Sarah took a sip of her wine to hide her smile and shared a glance with Tom. "I thought you needed a reality check, Master Chief. You old school Spartans are an arrogant bunch."

"Old school?"

"Old tech, old strategies, old…"

John found himself on his feet. This woman was goading him. How dare she, no one spoke to him this way. Even Cortana would not dare to ridicule him…

"You're not planning to toss me against the wall again, are you, Master Chief?"

"What do you want from me?"

The tension in the room grew through the tone of his voice alone. Tom found himself taking a breath and a deep sip of wine. He actually thought about backing up, but held his ground. Besides, this was fascinating to watch. Sort of like two Infinity Class ships colliding.

Sarah Palmer rose slowly to her feet and stared him in the eye. "Your attention."

"I assure you, ma'am, you have it."

A step toward the Spartan revealed stormy, dilated eyes.

"Stop calling me, ma'am."

"Protocol…"

Her fingers slipped under the collar of his shirt and around his neck. She kissed his cheek, "Did you enjoy the meal?"

"Yes, ma'am. I appreciate the time you…"

She kissed his lower lip and sucked the flesh into her mouth.

"The wine?"

"Yes, ma'am…"

While she'd been talking, she'd unbuttoned his shirt. She lightly licked his lips, "Would you like dessert?" She asked managing to keep an innocent expression while she pressed herself against him chest. Cheesy line, yes. But making love to this man would be dessert and she was ready to dig in and enjoy it.

"I…"

"Me too," she bent her head to his chest kissing the spot between just below his neck.

He sucked in a breath, tangled his hands in her hair, and pulled her head back.

"Tom," he said, shaking his head in denial of her intentions.

"You have a loyal Spartan, Tom." Then with her nimble fingers still opening his shirt, she whispered, "He's right here. He's watching us."

"And you are attempting to seduce me…"

This woman was difficult to ignore. Equal parts, beautiful and charismatic she's standing so close to him, he's nearly blind to anything else in the room. Tall, powerful, and daring him to face what she offered. He never could turn down a challenge.

"How am I doing?" She asked, grazing her teeth over his chin.

Spartan-strong hands fastened around her wrists. Her impudence ignited his blood and set fire to primal needs. He would take what she offered and she would be his. John snapped her arms behind her back and jerked her against his chest. Then very slowly and very deliberately, bent his head and kissed her in the same spot just below her neck. She gasped when his lips touched her skin. Such an interesting spot this small round indentation… he ran his tongue around it and kissed the spot again. With his nose buried in her neck, John inhaled deeply. Would he ever get used to these sensations of unfiltered scents, or experiencing the texture of things with his own fingers. The texture of her soft brown hair as tickled his nose or the delicate shell of her ear compared to the powerful body he held captured in his arms. The way she surrendered to him by tipping her head back to let him know she wanted more.

Taking his head in her hands, she asked him to raise his eyes to hers. "Listen to me. I know you'll never be mine. And this isn't the time to share that. Let me share myself with you. I'm jealous…"

Master Chief silenced her by pressing his lips against hers.

The kiss they shared went on and on and he wasn't even sure how much time had gone by or how they were both naked. And well, he was nothing if not adaptable. He didn't resist when without warning, she wrapped her long legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. "I've waited long enough for you," she said with fierce determination and pulled him down to the bed.

Waited for me?

"Here," she said softly arching her back to offer him her chest. Nearly as hard-muscled as a man, but the sweet softness of her breasts and the way she writhed against him when he pulled the peaked mound into his mouth let him know he pleased her. The sensation of kissing her breasts took him by surprise and her response even more so. If she was this sensitive then he had better go slow and keep his touch gentle. However, that had not been the case. She very quickly let him know otherwise by pushing herself against his mouth.

"Harder," she hissed. She scraped her nails across his scalp, pushing him down. "Don't stop. Take me there!"

Take her where? "I could hurt you…"

"…I dare you to try," she said and bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. He followed orders and used his teeth on what he still thought must be very delicate flesh. While he worked on one breast with his mouth, he used a hand on the other. Each time he bit her he followed it up with a kiss and licked the bruised flesh.

Then Tom is there with them, naked and leaning in to press and a gentle kiss on Sarah's mouth. "I need to taste you… All of you… Let me?" There was no need to ask, as soon as he dusted his fingers over the small patch of hair between her legs, she began to pant, her chest heaving with anticipation. Before he moved away, he turned his head and pressed his lips to John's hungry mouth.

"Tom. I…" The Spartan pulled Tom up and into his arms and kissed him passionately.

"I know, John. But, stay here with us." The kiss was hard with desire and unexpressed words. But now is not the time to speak and there is so little time left. When Tom heard John groan into his mouth, he moved away with a grin. But not before paying his respects to the hard pectoral muscles by nipping at them playfully. God, how he loved to sink his teeth into this man.

She cried out impatiently when he skimmed his fingers over her stomach and thighs. Tom moved down her body, positioning himself between her legs.

"Hang on to her, John," Lasky said. At the first touch of Tom's mouth on her labia, she bucked beneath him. John watched incredulously as Tom kissed and used his tongue on the quivering woman in their hands.

While Sarah writhed under him, he was still torn between hurting her, the taste of her flesh combined with the blood on his lip. Her cries increased in both volume and frequency. She was chanting Tom's name into his mouth, while John kissed her.

The louder her cries, the rougher his touch became. He no longer worried he was hurting her. What Tom was doing to her nearly shocked the Spartan. He was so naïve. There was so much pleasure in simply touching one another. John moved behind her and cradled her head and shoulders on his lap. Now he could watch her body ripple and shiver under Tom's caresses.

"You are so beautiful and wild like this Sarah," John said stroking his fingers through her hair. Strong hands reached back to find purchase, something to hold on to. How had he never heard about this...what Tom was doing to Sarah? John was a fast learning and he watched Tom's actions closely. As Tom increased the pace, Sarah's nails dug into the Spartan's corded thigh muscles. In an explosion of reaction and shouted pleasure, Sarah's body reacted to the sudden and full force of her pleasure. The effect was so explosive and her cry so primal he had to push the urge to ask her if she was injured away. She was anything but injured.

"One of you," Sarah gasped. "Please… I need you… inside me."

"I believe that honor belongs to John." Before he allowed John to move away, he placed another kiss on John's mouth. He pulled back in surprise when he realized what Tom was sharing with him. He didn't want to stop kissing him, but insistent hands pulled him down. She was quite simply delicious. Desire and a deep need to take her and fill her drove him forward.

"Never keep a lady waiting."

No, John realized. That would be bad manners. His body released him from any hesitation and moved of its accord as he positioned himself over her. He remembered sinking into her wet heat, losing himself in the simple ancient rhythms of a man and woman. How erotic the moment when he lost himself in Sarah. Knowing Tom watched them, his encouraging hand moving gently over this back.

"Sarah," he called out to her, eyes wild and uncertain. Realizing, as he lay cradled by her body, his legs perfectly aligned between hers, his arms and either side of her shoulders, that this was the moment he'd heard about only in whispered conversations in locker rooms or from Marines bragging about their conquests over beers. This time of complete abandon, a need to achieve a coupling as ancient and profound in him as the human race itself.

With a compulsion to move he couldn't stop if a Mgalekgolo Hunter—Well, if a magnum was within reach he could get off a shot or two—burst into the room, John thrust himself into the woman beneath him. Her legs opened wider and her hips rose to meet his. In a moment of blind lust, he felt her body go very still and then she nearly lifted him off the floor when her orgasm took them both to the edge. The walls of her sex pulsed around him pulling at him and teasing him to keep moving. Spellbound by the expression on her face, he could only watch. Finally, she opened her eyes.

Her lips touched his eyelids, his cheeks, and his mouth. "John…" her voice broke over his name. " I want to learn how to love you… take what you need... then we'll give our handsome Captain some attention."

With her whispered permission, John realized how long he'd held back. He had to move. Then she tilted her hips, and he fell deeper into her body. Beyond stopping himself now, he thrust himself deep inside her. He would take her, and he would own her. Each thought sent a shiver down his spine, and his entire body focused on the place of their joining and the frissons of sensation, which made him tremble.

This time when his actions brought the woman beneath him to orgasm and with a cry he could not hold back, he helplessly joined her. In those moments of complete surrender, while he emptied himself into her, she held him safe in her arms.

When he buried his face in her neck, he said softly. "Sarah… I didn't know..."

"You were wonderful. I knew it would be like this with you. Hey," she said softly, raising his head, "we have a Captain over there who needs some attention."

"You both look so wonderfully relaxed, why don't I come over there and join you." Lasky crawled over to the entwined couple and they parted pulling the Captain between them into their combined embrace.

John knew this man's body and sharing the tastes with Sarah, they kissed their way over his taut body.

Tom panted, his voice bubbling with laughter, "Now, who's being teased?"

"Teasing?" Sarah smoothed her hand over his groin. "I think you need a reality check." Without warning, she took him into her mouth. Sarah took him to the edge and stopped suddenly. Tom's hands reached for her, to find her moving over him to straddle his hips. Her grin turned predatory when she saw his eyes widen. For a moment, she went still and pulled at John to join her straddling the Captain's body. Yes, this will do, she thought. Now she had full access to the Spartan and able to pleasure the Captain at the same time.

Their night of wild abandon was something he would never forget. That night was over now and Spartan John-117 willed the memories away and opened his eyes.

"I do not know how to leave you." John said softly with the realization that of all the scenarios he'd won, the problems solved and the battles he'd won, he had no idea how to leave this man.

"And I do not know how to let you go. John, if these last four months are all the time we ever have together, then they were the best months of my life. The gift of your..."

"...I must go." The Spartan stood, pulling Tom to his feet. When Tom leaned into him, John didn't hesitate to return the embrace. "I'll wear workout gear to the gym and shower there."

He watched the Spartan throw on his sweats and slips his feet into cross trainers. Just before he walked out the door, he grabbed Tom around the waist and hauled him against his body. "So many gifts." The Spartan kissed him hard, bruising his lips. "Gifts I can never repay."

"Repay?" Lasky choked back the emotion. "You gave yourself, John. You trusted me."

"I don't know where this mission will take me or if I will survive, but you will be with me. Always."

"Always, John."

Captain Thomas Lasky watched John-117 walk out the door and didn't expect to see him again. No, he wouldn't trade a moment of the time he spent with the Master Chief. But how to go on without him left him standing in the middle of his quarters with nowhere to turn.

Encased in his armor, shut off from human contact, Master Chief felt the last of the warmth he'd experienced with Captain Lasky and Sarah Palmer drain through his armor's filters. Like physical pain, it left him hollow and trapped. Never once in his entire life had he felt trapped in this armor. And he'd forgotten how quiet it was with the death of Cortana. Aching to turn back to the welcome smile of Tom Lasky it took all his concentration to fit himself into the cockpit of the Broadsword. The controller didn't give him a moment, before beginning the countdown. Master Chief, checked his controls, completed his own checklist, and gave thumbs up to the launch controllers on the deck.

He turned his head to look over the launch controller's shoulder to see Captain Lasky watching. Directly behind him stood Commander Palmer, the Spartan saluted the officers and released the brakes and launched himself into empty space.


	12. Terrible Temptations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Given there's snow on the ground, they probably wouldn't be in their "whites" yet. Please don't skip the notes section. I visited the Harley Davidson website and by the time I'd finished designing the Master Chief's motorcycle the price tag was over $17,000.00!!!

* * *

Spring resolutely showed her colors, pushing bright petals though the cold damp earth. Just yesterday, there had been snow on the ground and the dark low clouds threatening more. However, today was too special to be disrupted by a storm. So special, that the late winter snowstorm obediently disappeared. The sun determinedly brightened the area with her warm and light.

Just inside the main gate of the military base, workers were setting up chairs, podiums, and a sound system on a dais located in the center of a grassy area. In just a few hours, they’d transformed the bare dais into a colorful array of red white and blue carnations and UNSC flags snapping in the light breeze.Nearby, sailors in their dress whites, try to keep their shoes clean and polished, stand huddled together on the only dry area available. To pass the time they checked over each other’s uniforms and straightened their kerchiefs. No one dares to sit down in case of breaking the crease on his or her trousers. Nearby the color guard rehearsed a few steps to warm up. The five Sideboys spoke nervously among themselves, while the Boatswain’s Mate, paced up and down practiced a few notes on this pipe.

In the Officer’s Club, a luncheon was in the final stages of preparation. Fine food waits in heating trays for hungry sailors and their officers. A bartender polishes his counter, sets up glasses and checks for the tenth time to make sure the correct Scotch is available and the beer is cold. Gifts piled high on a side table threaten to spill onto the floor. The flower arrangement outside is continued in the ballroom with more fresh carnations in colors of red, white and blue.

Outside the military band, strikes up a tune meant to call the troops to formation. The officers call their squadrons to form up. The sailors dress their lines and form up according to height. They spent hours practicing, so this doesn’t take long. Nothing can be left to chance today. The band stops playing and all are silent as the guests of honor and the Admirals file on stage and seat themselves. The officers call their squadrons to attention while guests seat themselves.The presiding Admiral observes the crowd and when all is ready he steps to the podium.

“Good morning. I would like to welcome all of you to this special occasion marking the retirement of Captain Thomas Lasky. We are gathered here today to witness the final stage in a very full and productive 30-year military career. We are also gathered to say thanks to a good shipmate. Thanks for his many contributions, which in their unique way have made our Navy a stronger and more capable force in our never-ending fight for peace in this often-troubled Galaxy.

Thanks for his many dedicated hours and personal thanks for his many dedicated hours and personal initiative that helped make the UNSC Navy the proud professional organization it is today. Thanks for being the type of leader that has ensure the next generation of soldiers are ready to meet the challenges of tomorrow.  
Before we begin the official retirement ceremony, I want to welcome and honor our guest speaker the Chief Petty Officer of the UNSC Navy. We didn’t know until this morning whether he could be here or not. We are proud to have you here Master Chief. The podium is yours, sir.”

Captain Lasky rose from his chair. Adrenaline pumped hard enough through him to make him unsteady on his feet. The birds, the quiet murmur of the crowd quieted, all he could hear were the heavy footsteps of a man he really thought he would ever see again.Rising into his field of view as the person walked up the stairs, Lasky watched the head covered in a bright white wheel cap, broad shoulders, clad in brilliant dress whites, a chest full of ribbons. His service stripes covered the left sleeve of his jacket above his elbow to his wrist.

_“John?”_

A hand on his arm brought him down to his seat. Outside his face is a mask of military decorum. Inside, Lasky’s heart beat a fierce tattoo. It was hard to breathe and harder not to run to that man wrap and his arms around him. The uniforms be damned. Military decorum be damned. He just wanted to touch him. Captain Lasky closed his eyes when John began to speak. So long since he’d heard that voice, he let it wash over him.

“Captain Lasky, Admirals, and guests. I’m proud to be here today, and be a part of the retirement ceremony of one of the best and bravest men I’ve ever known. As a CO, he kept the mission and the welfare of his crew at the front of his thoughts at all times. That’s not an easy balance to maintain, especially in the middle of a war. No detail was beneath his notice, his crew were the highest trained in the fleet and morale never faltered. However, these achievements are public record.

I met Captain Lasky when he was Cadet Lasky, a freshman cadet at Corbulo Military Academy. A team of Spartans and I were sent to Circinius IV to follow up on Intel. The Intel proved correct and we landed in the middle of a firefight. The entire population of Circinius tragically died that night. The Covenant had already begun glassing the planet when we came upon four cadets. Four cadets, who kept their heads, remembered their training, and military bearing. They survived by using their wits and at a time when following a strangers order might be the last thing you would do they followed my instructions.

The fourth cadet Chyler Silva didn’t make it to the LZ with us. A Needler round hit her. To my lasting regret, I could not save her that day, because with so many casualties, the Medigel was gone. Cadet Lasky tried to save her; he provided aid and comfort until she breathed her last. Then two Hunters came upon us and Cadet Lasky did a very brave thing. He ran, drawing fire and distracting the Hunter so the Spartan’s could take it down. Until that moment, he’d never seen a Hunter and didn’t understand how deadly they were. He acted gallantly to save his shipmates, April Orenski and Michael Sullivan. His selfless action saved the lives of his fellow cadets and allowed my Spartans to kill the Hunters and get to the LZ.

Captain Lasky, if my presence here today is unexpected, I have an additional surprise.” The Spartan looked out at the crowd. “Captain April Orenski and Commander Michael Sullivan please take your places as the sixth and seventh Sideboys. Congratulations, Captain Lasky, it was an honor and a privilege to serve with you and counted among your friends.”

The Master Chief left the podium with a salute toward the presiding Admiral and seated himself at the podium. The admiral began to speak again.

“Just as this the end of one phase of his life, it is the beginning of another. So our gathering today also gives us the opportunity to wish him every success as the looks forward to new challenges and awards.”

The color guard retired the colors and began to fold the UNSC flag. When they folded it into its traditional three-cornered shape, the ranking member of the guard presented it to Captain Lasky. The Admiral read his list of service awards, his assignments. The crowd was silent as the Admiral read the Orders of Retirement. Then the Master Chief approached the podium again. This time he didn’t try to avoid eye contact with the Captain when he began to read a poem. Everyone knew the work. They’d all heard it. Today it held special significance.

“The Watch  
For twenty years  
This sailor has stood the watch.  
While some of us were in our bunks at night  
This sailor stood the watch.  
While some of us were in school learning our trade  
This shipmate stood the watch.  
Yes... even before some of us were born into this world  
This shipmate stood the watch.  
In those years when the storm clouds of war were seen brewing on the horizon of history  
This shipmate stood the watch.  
Many times he would cast an eye ashore and see his family standing there needing his guidance and help.  
Needing that hand to hold during those hard times  
But he still stood the watch.  
He stood the watch for thirty years  
He stood the watch so that we, our families and our fellow countrymen could sleep soundly in safety, each and every night  
Knowing that a sailor stood the watch  
Today we are here to say  
'Shipmate... the watch stands relieved  
Relieved by those You have trained, Guided, and Lead  
Shipmate you stand relieved.. We have the watch..."  
Boatswain. Standby to pipe the side...Shipmate's going Ashore..."

  
Respectful silence reined as Captain Thomas Lasky walked between the lines created by the Sideboys. The Boatswain’s pipe rang in his ears. Then it was over and he was both sad and elated. Well-wishers shook his hand and hugged him, wished him luck and thanked him. Sailors and Marines shared memories with him from the days he was their CO.

At the Club, drinks were shared, toasts made and jokes politely laughed at. Through it all, Lasky’s eyes scanned the room for the Master Chief, but all through the meal and the gift presentations, he never appeared.

  
~o0o~

Alone in the ballroom, UNSC Captain (Ret.) Lasky sips the last of his scotch and wonders where his life his headed. In two weeks, he started a new job here on the Naval Station.  
Maybe he’d just dreamed the Master Chief up.

Good to see April and Mike again, though. He thought of Sarah Palmer and the night they shared with John. Oddly, or maybe he just hadn’t tried hard enough, they never became lovers. Good friends, yes and God he’d needed a friend after John left. Gone into deep space on a Top Secret assignment, he hadn’t seen her in six months. He wished her well and poured himself another glass of whiskey.

It’s close to midnight when the cleaning staff and the night security guard gave him the eye. Reluctantly, he heads out the front door of the Officer’s Club. The snow that held off politely is coming down like a warning in fat wet flakes. Tom shrugs his jacket back on and with his hands in his pockets heads toward Officer’s Billeting. The night is dark and wet, with only the haloed streetlights to guide him.

Maybe he’d just imagined John’s presence. In reality, he was still onboard the Infinity and John was on his way to the Captain’s cabin. Damn he was drunk. Lasky scrubbed a sleeve across his face and quickened his pace toward Billeting.

“Need a ride?”

Lasky swiveled his head toward the shadows created by the snow-laden trees next to the street. Damn worrying about being drunk, he needed to be drunk, because what he just heard was too much to hope and now he didn’t have much hope left in him. Lasky took a step toward the curb. There in the shadows sitting on a vintage Harley Davidson Fat Boy sat the Master Chief.

“Nice bike.”

“I like it.”

“Chief Petty Officer of the Navy?”

The Spartan shrugged. “I stood still for too long and some admiral decided to make it official.”

“No more Warthogs?”

“A desk.”

“Thanks for getting April and Mike here. They left a while ago. April’s daughter is in town and Mike had duty at the hospital. It was good to see them.”

“The weather is closing in, sir. May I offer you a ride, Captain?”

“You already did… Sorry. Guess I’m a little drunk. Don’t really have anywhere to go… Just heading to officer’s billeting.”

“I have an alternative.”

“Don’t worry about me. It’s good to see you though.”

“Tom.”

“’Night, Chief.”

“ _Tom_ , come here or I will pick you up and put you on the back of this bike.”

Tom stared up at the falling snow, “Is it really you?”

An unexpected, yet familiar presence behind him placed a jacket on his shoulders. He obediently slid his arms into the sleeves. The Spartan placed a helmet in his hands and while he pulled it down over his head, John zipped up his jacket.

The motorcycle roared to life. John reached behind him and pulled Tom’s arms around his waist. “Hold on.”

Yes, hold on. Hold on to the warm haven of the Spartan’s broad back. The leather jacket felt smooth and warm against his cheek. He was a small child who’d been found lost in a snowstorm. His hands found their way under the black leather, to a soft sweater. The Master Chief must have changed out of his uniform. Tom fisted his hands into the fabric and pressed himself against the man he thought he’d never see again.

The thirty-minute ride found them in front of what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse. After securing the bike in a garage, the Master Chief put away their helmets and jackets. Then Tom followed the silent man up a flight of stairs to an elevator. The door finally opened on a wide-open space, filled with books and oversize furniture. The loft had floor to ceiling windows on three sides. Snow swirled against the glass and Tom shivered.

Wandering from one area to the next, he found a small neat kitchen, a staircase, and an exercise area complete with machines, a treadmill, and a punching bag. “This is wonderful.”

“If you come up stairs with me, I’ll show you were you can shower and change. You’re shivering.”

Tom found himself in a guest bedroom, with an adjoining bathroom. On the bed were a set of clothes, jeans and a long sleeve polo…

“John, these are in my size. How did you know I would…?”

“I didn’t,” he shrugged. “Cortana once told me I was lucky. I thought I might count on that luck to bring you here tonight.”

~o0o~

Please take a look at these two vids. I just found the vid with a Navy Chief actually performing The Watch at a retirement ceremony (tears, real tears) Please take a look. You can see the Sideboys. I was a Sideboy, when we stood down one of my units. Once I stood at attention during a multiple retiree ceremony. You are at attention. You don’t move. Days, weeks and years go by, but you don’t move. A bug flew up my nose and I had to swallow the damn thing.

  
Navy Chief’s retirement ceremony: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5PA3yoyO_30

  
Navy Chief performs The Watch: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OeqwhDXoBAA

hāvər. Verb. SCOTTISH  
Meaning, talk foolishly; babble.  
"Tom havered on"

NOTE: I know this song might seem a little corny to some. However, I was inspired and reminded of it by watching the Budweiser Clydesdales, Super bowl commercial. For those of you outside the US, I’ll post the link. Fluffy warning, but it's cute: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xAsjRRMMg_Q

“Well I know I'm gonna be  
I'm gonna be the man who goes along with you,  
If I get drunk, (if I get drunk), well I know I'm gonna be  
I'm gonna be the man who gets drunk next to you,  
And if I haver, (if I haver),  
Yeah I know I'm gonna be  
I'm gonna be the man who's havering to you,

But I would walk 500 miles  
And I would walk 500 more  
Just to be the man who walked a thousand miles  
To fall down at your door.

When I'm working, (when I'm working),  
Yes I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the man who's working hard for you,  
And when the money,  
Comes in for the work I do  
I'll pass almost every penny on to you  
When I come home (when I come home),  
I know I'm gonna be (I'm gonna be) the man who comes back home to you  
And when I grow old, well I know I'm gonna be (I'm gonna be the man) who's growing old with you

But I would walk 500 miles  
And I would walk 500 more  
Just to be the man who walked a thousand miles,  
To fall down at your door

When I'm lonely, well I know I'm gonna be  
(I'm gonna be) the man who's lonely without you  
When I'm dreaming, well I know I'm gonna dream  
I'm gonna dream about the time when I'm with you  
When I go out (when I go out), well I know I'm gonna be  
I'm gonna be the man who goes along with you  
And when I come home, (when I come home),  
Yeah I know I'm gonna be (I'm gonna be) the man who comes back home with you.  
But I would walk 500 miles  
And I would walk 500 more  
Just to be the man who walked a thousand miles  
To fall down at your door.”  
Proclaimers, _500 Miles_

 


	13. Terrible Temptations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short 'n Fluffy

* * *

"Who knows when love begins?

Who knows what makes it start?

One day it's simply there, a life inside your heart

It slips into your thoughts…"

* * *

 

Time stopped for the two men, with eyes everywhere but on each other. Finally, Tom found the words he'd held for so many months. "…I spent a year thinking you might be dead. But, then I realized grieving for you might be easier than hoping you were still alive."

Tom turned his back on the Spartan and gathered up the clothes.

"Tom…"

Lasky waived his hand through the electricity crackling between them.

"I'm exhausted and more than a little drunk."

"And I spent a year, forcing myself back into the armor I was trained from childhood to wear."

With a hand on the doorframe, Lasky spoke over his shoulder. "I'm sure you were successful. You always are."

"The mission was…"

"Stow it, Chief. I turned my world upside down today. I don't want to hear the word mission. I just don't give a fuck. Thirty years… thirty years. Jesus, fuck." Lasky scrubbed a hand over his face.

"There will be food waiting for you downstairs. I…"

The bathroom door slammed in his face.

In his small kitchen, John thoughtfully sliced fresh tomatoes and arranged them on two plates. He didn't know if Tom liked ham or turkey so he'd purchased both. A loaf of whole grain bread — he'd made it himself — sat between the two plates. And in a moment, he would share with no one but Tom; he'd made the dessert of fresh strawberries on small round cakes. No ketchup required. Interesting skill set, cooking, and baking. He found he enjoyed the process of following a recipe and learning the feel of the bread dough in his hands and the process of preparing a meal.

He'd thought about this moment many times. Planned what he would do if he survived the mission. Of course, he survived. He always managed to survive. The agony of the silence in his head nearly cost him his life, because hadn't imaged to find it so distracting. Time out of his armor and spent among others had taught him to communicate with someone besides an A.I.

Now he wore a uniform every day and worked regular hours. Workdays. Now that had been almost the strangest of all. His workday began with a mission scenario and ended when the mission was over. The concept of time, and that a workday had a beginning and an end was very strange to him.

When he returned from the mission with the Intel, they'd thanked him for a successful mission and assured him his work was important. Yes, and he was always pretty sure that had always been true. When they finished thanking him and congratulating him and promising to design a new medal just for him, they ordered him out of his armor.

Once he showered and dressed a yeoman came by his quarters and escorted him to a briefing room. Then in a room full of admirals and ONI agents he'd been debriefed, counseled about not revealing information — he'd found that mildly insulting — and congratulated him on him on his promotion to Chief Petty Officer of the UNSC Navy. They made a great show making him comfortable in his new office. Asked him if he required any assistance finding housing or managing money. He'd signed papers, made up a password for his new network account, and ordered new uniforms. Discovered an astonishing amount of money existed in a bank account with his name on it.

The admiral showed him a letter signed by Catherine Halsey and Chief Mendez. They'd opened an account for all of them when they'd been conscripted as children. Somehow, John found his desk chair and sat down. He couldn't take his eyes off the printed words. Through all the rigorous training, the lonely nights when he tried to hold on to the image of his mother, the harsh words meant to toughen them for the battlefield, Halsey and Mendez had cared enough to take care of their future.

The shower turned off and in a few minutes, and footsteps on the staircase.

The smell of fresh bread leads him to the kitchen. And if there's been one more thing to happen on this day of life changing events. The site of the Master Chief arranging dill pickles on two plates…

"What would you like to drink?"

That tore it. Exhaustion and unspent emotions held at bay through too much Scotch and force of will bubbled up into his throat, choking him and burning his eyes. Tom grabbed for the counter, but John got to him first.

He'd never felt so lost in his life. But he was found in the hesitant tug and bump against the impossibly broad chest. The long fingered hands he thought every day for the past year spread over his back and carded into his hair. John bent over to curve himself around Tom, supporting him and allowing him the time to come back to himself.

"John…" he said softly as if he'd just found him. Tom fisted his hands into the cable knit sweater.

"You will eat and then you will sleep," the Spartan said, allowing his lips to touch Tom's cheek while he spoke. And that was probably a mistake because Tom responded by arching his body against him. He tilted his head back, searching for John's mouth with his fingers.

The Spartan tucked Tom's face against his chest. "I will be happy to work at recapturing what we had. If that is what you want, too. For now, you will eat, and you will sleep." But he kept his arms around him until he felt a long breath sigh out of him.

Then he relaxed, and Tom lifted his head with a smile, "everything looks good. Fresh food. What a treat."

Pushing him toward a chair, John pulled one of the plates in front of Tom. There in the Master Chief's small neat kitchen they sat side by side at the breakfast bar. And in quiet camaraderie, they built sandwiches and enjoyed their simple meal.

"Was it very difficult for you? Getting used to living in the real world?" Tom asked tentatively and wiped his mouth on a napkin. A cloth napkin, no less.

"Yes."

"You've obviously thrived. This is a beautiful place. You must have enjoyed deciding what kinds of things you wanted around you. And the books. John, I think I want to plant myself on that oversized couch and start on the first volume on the top row of that bookcase," he said, nodding toward the first bookcase by the entrance."

"You're welcome to stay here for as long as you wish."

"And what do you wish for, John?"

He made a show of rinsing the dishes and clearing the counter before he answered. Tom watched the Spartan place the dishes in the washer and wondered if someone had to teach him how to do that. He thought probably not, it was nothing more than a problem to solve and he'd always been good at that.

The Spartan carefully hung the dishcloth on the hook. Hooded dark blue eyes pinned him to his chair and pierced his heart.

With a nod of his head, the Spartan looked toward the counter. "I wish for two coffee mugs, instead of just one."

* * *

 

Who knows when love begins

Who knows what makes it start

One day it's simply there

Alive inside your heart

0

It slips into your thoughts

It infiltrates your soul

It takes you by surprise

Then seizes full control

0

Try to deny it

And try to resist

But love won't let you go

Once you've been possessed

0

Love never dies

Love never falters

Once it has spoken

Love is yours

0

Love never fades

Love never alters

Hearts may get broken

Love endures

And soon as you submit

0

Surrender flesh and bone

That love takes on a life

Much bigger than your own

0

It uses you at whim

And drives you to despair

And forces you to feel

More joy than you can bear

0

Love gives you pleasure

And love brings you pain

And yet when both are gone

Love will still remain

0

Once it has spoken

Love is yours

Love never dies

Love never alters

Hearts may get broken

0

Love endures

Hearts may get broken

Love never dies

Love will continue

Love keeps on beating

When you're gone

0

Love never dies

Once it is in you

Life may be fleeting

Love lives on

Life may be fleeting

0

Love lives on

Andrew Lloyd Webber - Love Never Dies

More lovely fluff

Wishing you were somehow here again: watch?v=LSRNjnpM7y4

If I loved you: watch?v=eONJUqJQI9A

All I ask of you: watch?v=WqQcYQgQkS8

When I fall in love: watch?v=GfAb0gNPy6s

Love never dies: watch?v=l_4fo5KSnQk


	14. Terrible Temptations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AN: Well, I only thought I was through with this story. Someone, you know who you are, asked for a bit more fluff, and the original ending didn't seem very satisfying. One more chapter after this one. Thanks for stopping by.

* * *

"I will be watching over you

I am gonna help you see it through

I will protect you in the night

I am smiling next to you

in Silent Lucidity

If you open your mind for me

You won't rely on open eyes to see

The walls you built within

Oh, come tumbling down

And a new world will begin"

* * *

 

Master Chief said goodnight to Tom and shut the door to the guest room. Thoughtful, the Spartan headed downstairs to the picture windows. Tom hadn't answered him when he mentioned the coffee mugs. Perhaps he misunderstood? It was too soon. Today had been a life changing day for him and John cautioned himself to patience. Tom needed rest, not pressured to make even more changes in his life.

The night sky outside his sanctuary swirled with snowflakes. The stars which had so often been his companion were hidden behind the late spring storm clouds. He knew people were complaining about the weather. They always did and this puzzled him. There wasn't anything they could do to change it, so why complain? Be prepared, of course.

During the last twelve months, he'd learned to appreciate a variety of things. The ever changing weather. The rain. Thunder and lightning. Riding his motorcycle on a sunny day through the countryside. Tinkering with the bike in his small garage. Teaching himself the mechanics of cooking and baking. And books, wonderful, wonderful books. Books told him stories he'd never heard before, took him to places he'd never seen.

And always he remembered Cortana's wistful comments about never being able to see a sun or appreciate the touch of another person. If he simply looked down at himself, he could remember the sensation of her hand on his armor. And he didn't much care what scientists assured him about feeling her touch through his armor was impossible. He knows what he felt. Just as he felt his world shatter when she backed away from him, gone forever.

A year later and he still grieves for her. She's still a part of him. The doctors explain it might be years before the echoes of her presence in his brain finally fade away. The day they insisted he have the neural implant removed took him down. Three days in the hospital shouting at the medical staff to leave him alone and shut the door. Curled defensively in the oversized hospital bed he wept, genuinely cried tears for the loss of his Cortana.

On the third day a different doctor entered his room, locked the door behind him and waited silently until the Spartan acknowledged his presence. The doctor assured him that grieving was a normal process. How long the grieving would last depended on the Spartan. The doctor promised the aching cavern in the deepest places inside him would fill with other things. If he reached out for them. Finally, the doctor went away and left John to process their conversation.

Although some might disagree about her existence as nothing more than an elaborate computer program, she had been as real to him as... As what?

He would never admit it to another soul, but the night he'd made love to Commander Palmer, he pretended the sound of Sarah's voice altered to Cortana's. When he touched the naked flesh of the woman giving herself to him so selflessly, he closed his eyes and imagined it was Cortana in his arms.

He imagined Sarah's dark velvet-brown eyes were Cortana's wide indigo-blue and gave himself over to the fantasy. In the darkened quarters, the body that felt so right beneath him when he settled between her legs was Cortana's. It was exactly the way he imagined when he allowed himself to sink into her gaze as he pushed himself inside the warm depths of her woman's body.

That fantasy he built around himself and Sarah had been for Cortana, for all the things she dreamed of experiencing but never could. When he stood in the falling snow he let the flakes fall on his bare hands and face, tasting the frozen bits of lacy crystal for her and watching them melt on his skin. Laughing together while they explored the new world around them. He imagined her perched on the back of his motorcycle with her arms around his waist directing him where to go and warning him about driving too fast.

Months went by before he could manage to stop pretending she lived in this apartment with him. She was always just upstairs, or still sleeping or running an errand. Then at night she'd visit his dreams. These fantasies kept him sane, and no matter how nonsensical provided an anchor in this chaotic and often confusing new world he lived in.

In spite of his self-imposed isolation the people around him gradually drew him out. It began with award ceremonies, and lunch meetings. The offer of a quick drink after work at the club. Traveling to different parts of the world or off-planet to speak to other sailors and marines and in front of groups both large and small. Developing policy and regulations while never forgetting that he had once lived on the battlefield.

A fierce joy spiked through him, aborting the sad thoughts and kept him from sinking into melancholia. The man sleeping upstairs. The man with the open emotion, who didn't, as so many did, hide his emotions behind a facade of power or ego. A man who'd lived on the fringes of his own life for more than thirty years. That man accepted his offer of safe haven, just as Tom had done once for him after Requiem.

Tomorrow they'd wake in this house, together, with time to spend and plans to make. There was no longer any need for him to wait at this window, watching the world go about its business without him. Master Chief shook himself and decided to go to bed so that new day might arrive sooner.

So as not to awaken Tom, the Master Chief showered downstairs. Padding naked up the stairs he entered his room and noticed a mound buried under the blankets. Curled on his side as if to take up the smallest amount of room possible was Tom Lasky snoring peacefully. Moving quietly, Master Chief slid under the blankets and gently lifted Tom against him, spooning his larger body around the Captain's he tucked him against his chest and wrapped him in his long arms.

"I tried to stay awake... wait for you." Came a sleepy voice muffled by a blanket. "...Didn't want to waste any more time."

Master Chief rubbed his nose through Tom's shower clean hair and moved his mouth across the man's neck and shoulder. Tom shivered and sighed. With a chuckle wiggled his bottom into the Chief's groin. The effect produced immediate results when Tom felt something hard and warm slide against his buttocks.

"What are you doing in my bed, Captain?" The Spartan asked seriously pushing his hips against Lasky.

"Trying to get laid, Master Chief."

"Your mission scenario is sound and I predict your chances of success at 100%. Although your attempt at stealth lacks a certain finesse. However, if you don't stop pushing against me the outcome will be the same." The Master Chief took himself in hand and pressed the heavy end of his cock between Tom's cheeks until it found the small pucker of flesh.

Lasky gasped and pushed back the pressure. "Please. John. Right fucking now."

The Spartan moved just enough to pull Tom over on his back then he kissed him deeply. Their tongues fought an impatient battle to get on with it. With his hand over Tom's mouth he waited for him to coat his palm with their shared saliva. Shivering with need Tom ground his hips into the Spartan's with enough force to push the Spartan's cock passed the first ring of muscle.

"Tom, slow down. I don't want to hurt you."

"To hell with that. I'm so damn lost right now I don't know where I belong. Anchor me, John."

After John spread their shared saliva over his cock, he slid his left arm under and around Tom, then used his right to guide himself inside. Tight and hot inside both men shuddered against each other at the contact. Tom dragged in hard labored gusts of air writhing against him, pushing, demanding in labored gusts of air to be taken, to feel alive.

The Captain's words set John's brain on fire, his world narrowed down to the point of their joining and the furnace pulsing around his cock. There were so many things to say. He should have prepared Tom for penetration. None of that mattered now, all he could do was pump his body into Tom. He closed his hand over Tom's throbbing erection and smoothed it with his large hand until Tom whimpered.

"You are mine." The Spartan thrust into Tom's body until every bone, every sinew, every nerve in his body cried out for release. His eyes rolled back in his head, he'd never been this out of control. He didn't fear it and he heard himself moan and swear and fucked Tom with everything he had and with all the pent up need he'd carried with him for so many months.

With his orgasm closing in on him and Tom's cock burning his hand, he tried to remember to breathe. He wanted to make Tom come first, but to hell with it, he couldn't hold back anymore, and he slammed himself all the way into Tom and shuddered. He gave a few more sharp, jerky thrusts, trying to get a little deeper.

Tom shouted his name, sending ribbons of lust across John's hand and jerking his body toward the Spartan. The effect of Tom's orgasm pulled John deeper inside Tom's body. That was all it took to push him over the edge. The orgasm pulled every muscle in his body toward Tom when his own release pulsed deep into Tom's body, thrumming a matching rhythm for the men.

Still breathless and hungry John eased himself out of Tom and let him fall over on his back.

"John..." He carded his hands over the Spartan's head, lingering over the familiar features.

A passionate kiss silenced him until the Spartan teased his mouth open with his tongue. Gentle kisses, just touching Tom's lips sent him soaring. Master Chief continued his assault on Tom's mouth, increasing the pressure, until he began to flick his tongue in and out of Tom's mouth. His reaction was immediate and his cock filled arching over his belly. John caught it in his hand and began to stroke.

Cocooned in the big man's warmth Tom felt himself dissolving. Yes, he thought, just for this moment. No matter what happens in the morning. This time is ours. Tom used his last coherent thought to reach for the Spartan and begin to gently pull on the tight skin, stretching the aching flesh with each stroke of his hand.

A race to the finish, although neither man intended to be the first to go. With his jaw clenched, Tom spread his fingers to create ripple of effect of pressure . John groaned and arched against him pistoning himself into Tom's hand.

Tom might have one or two points of experience on John, but the Spartan had reach. He wasn't about to lose this battle. When he stretched his long fingers between Tom's legs he began to flick his finger against Tom's overly sensitized hole.

Tom arched and laughed aloud, "Damn you!" Then he sank his teeth into John's pectoral muscle and renewed his grip.

He felt John's laughter rumble beneath his chin. Without warning he's on his back and the Spartan's hands take control of him. Long fingers find their way inside him, curling toward upwards and forcing a long moan of need. This man, this wonderful, unique man who could easily tear him into pieces was playing with the complex intensity of a master musician.

The Spartan shifted and engulfed Tom's penis in his mouth gently putting his tongue to use and gather the tight sack and diamond hard cock.

"That's not fair… Oh, god, John. John!" Tom's body arched off the bed. Caught between the Spartan's mouth and the fingers working inside him Tom grabbed the sheets with his fists as his legs fell open. Heels on the bed he ratcheted himself against the Spartan.

The world went white, he's blind and helpless. No bed, no sheets, no Captain Thomas J. Lasky only the singing lust along his nerves, the countdown toward detonation building along his spine. The sensations of the Spartan's ministrations drove him on, until like one of the Mac guns on his beloved Infinity — and he almost smiled at the thought — his body let go.

The force shot Tom up into the Spartan's arms that caught him, holding him, soothing away the shocks and gentling him back down.

They rocked together, Tom across John's lap, wrapped in an embrace neither man could properly define. But it felt right. Skin to skin, muscle to muscle, sharing intimacies new to both of them. Words like I love you, I missed you seemed inadequate. Tom turned his head and placed a chaste kiss on the salty neck of the man holding him so tenderly. "I-I don't want to leave."

John lifted him closer and pulled him against his chest.

"Then you shall not."

Tom responded by tucking his head under the Spartan's chin and promptly fell asleep.

* * *

 

"Hush now don't you cry  
Wipe away the teardrop from your eye  
You're lying safe in bed  
It was all a bad dream  
Spinning in your head

Your mind tricked you to feel the pain  
Of someone close to you leaving the game of life  
So here it is, another chance  
Wide awake you face the day  
Your dream is over or has it just begun?

There's a place I like to hide  
A doorway that I run to in the night  
Relax child, you were there  
But only didn't realize it  
And you were scared

It's a place where you will learn  
To face your fears, retrace the years  
And ride the whims of your mind  
Commanding in another world  
Suddenly you hear and see  
This magic new dimension

I will be watching over you  
I am gonna help you see it through  
I will protect you in the night  
I am smiling next to you

in Silent Lucidity

If you open your mind for me  
You won't rely on open eyes to see  
The walls you built within  
Oh, come tumbling down  
And a new world will begin

Living twice at once you learn  
You're safe from pain in the dream domain  
A soul set free to fly  
A round trip journey in your head  
Master of illusion, can you realize  
Your dream's alive, you can be the guide but

I will be watching over you  
I am gonna help you see it through  
I will protect you in the night  
I am smiling next to you"

Queensryche, _Silent Lucidity_


	15. Terrible Temptations

**  Epilogue **

* * *

 

The large bedroom is still shrouded in darkness when Tom Lasky slid quietly out of bed careful not to shake anything or tug the bedding. The chrono glowed 0400 in the early morning darkness. Pausing for a moment to watch his partner sleeping peacefully, he held his breath when the man stirred, frowning in his sleep. Tom resisted the urge to lay down again to sooth him back to sleep. John's dreams were a normal part of their life together. Occasionally he called out to Cortana, usually he mumbled and moved his arms and legs as he were running or fighting.

The pull toward the Spartan was always strong, just to touch him, hold him and taste his skin. He never tired of showing him affection and using words or actions to let him know how much he cared about him. He loved the dark blue eyes full of love or lust or crinkled at the corners when he laughed. Their passion for each other was playful and energetic. There'd been a time when John worried about hurting him, but Tom proved him wrong. He didn't hesitate to push John around and simply climbed on top of the Spartan to take control.

Their lives together deepened their friendship as they drew each other out of their self imposed isolation and allowed love to grow. Although they hadn't given voice to it yet, each provided the other safe haven and and solace from the world. Their busy working lives kept them both working long hours and often traveling. Rare down-time usually found them sprawled together on one of the oversize sofas reading or watching a movie. It was during one of those movies, when John lifted Tom's chin. "Did I love Cortana?"

Tom twisted around and sat up, "Oh John, of course you did. I will never forget that day on the bridge when Captain Del Rio had that meltdown and all you said to his direct order to relinquish Cortana was 'no, sir' I thought he might have a stroke right there on the bridge."

He pressed his palm against the square jaw, "I don't give a damn what any scientist might have to say about an A.I. and a human. You two loved each other. You took care of each other and protected each other. She gave her life to save you and you would do the same for her." Tom placed a soft kiss on the Spartan's lips. "So what's the problem. Has she been on your mind?"

John glanced away. "No. Yes. At the end, if we had more time time I think I would have told her."

"There are different kinds of love," Tom said wondering where this conversation was going. He knew his love for the Spartan was real and immediate. After a lifetime spent controlled, isolated, and living with endless violence, he'd watched John unfold into a generous and affectionate man. So, Tom wondered, should he give John a push and tell him he'd fallen in love with him the moment he'd watched he and Cortana leave in the Pelican he outfitted so they could escape the Infinity.

His decision was made for him when John flipped Tom over on his back and began to nuzzle his way under Tom's clothes.

Tom shrugged on a robe and reluctantly left the sleeping man to his dreams. They began two weeks of leave today and there were things to do before they began their journey. He didn't want the Spartan around when he made the calls and took a small bag for each of them out to the vehicle. That he might actually surprise John with his plan scared him just a little, but not enough to stop him. With the car packed and the coffee ready, Tom went to wake John up.

Although he could get away with many things with John, for example the Spartan had ticklish feet, startling him from a sound sleep was never a good idea. With a good three feet between tried to wake him.

"John?"

"I'm awake. What have you been up to?"

Uh, oh. He put all his command tone into his voice. "Spartans ready in ten. Muster at the vehicle in fifteen." He set the coffee down and got the hell out of the room before John got really suspicious and decided to torture the information out of him. _Mmmmmmm._ His breath hitched and his cock throbbed in response. _Focus, Lasky. Stay focused._

With Tom at the wheel, they made good time out of the city toward the coast. If the Spartan noticed the bags or wondered about their destination he stayed silent, simply enjoying the view and keeping a hand on Tom's thigh. Unless he needed it to steer, Tom kept his hand over John's.

In just a few hours the sight of the sun glittering over the Atlantic Ocean greeted them. The endless rows of high-rise vacation resorts had been torn down hundreds of years ago. Today the entire area of what was once known as Martha's Vineyard is protected in its natural state. An inviting wild and wooded coastline ready for walking, hiking, swimming or simply taking in the view. A light breeze pushed the clouds around and the morning sun set everything glittering with warm light.

The GPS told him to turn left into a heavily wooded area through a arched gateway and up a dirt road. The sound of children playing and laughing reached them from the large playground located on the right side of the road. John threw a confused look at his companion and Tom simply grinned in response. On the left side of the road in site of the large brick main building was a large garden and greenhouse.

Tom pulled over and texted something on his comm device. Then he pulled over and got out.

"Tom, why are we visiting an orphanage? Is there something you wish to discuss with me?"

Tom laughed. "Maybe later. Right now there's someone waiting for you inside the greenhouse. Go." Tom made shooing motions with his hands. "I'm staying out here to enjoy the beautiful day."

More than a little confused, the Spartan stepped carefully through the planted rows toward the glass structure. One by one the children stopped what they were doing to watch the giant man walking through their well-tended garden.

"There's a path right there, Mister."

He hadn't noticed it. Once on the path the children visible relaxed but kept their eye on him. He overheard a female voice whisper, "I'll bet you tonight's dessert that's a Spartan."

The door to the greenhouse was open and he had to bend over to enter. Once inside he could stand upright. Long tables stretched down the length of the room overflowing with exotic flowers, well they were exotic to him anyway. A riot of colors, some he'd never seen before. The petals so delicate he was afraid to touch them. He pulled his hand back from a vibrantly purple flower. The petals seemed alive, like bird's wings or a large insect. And beautiful, the color so rich it almost hurt his eyes. Yet, they seemed familiar.

"It's an orchid. They only look delicate. It's okay to touch the petals."

A female voice spoke to him from the gloom. Twelve feet away from his position, calculating the distance automatically, stood a woman. She wore coveralls, gloves and rubber boots. Over her shoulder hung a braid of light brown hair. At her temples the first hint of grey reflected in the dim light. If he had to guess her age he thought she might be sixty. Brown eyes stared at him, while a familiar looking mouth smiled. He touched his own mouth, fingertips brushing over his lips.

"Why do you weep?" he asked.

"I'm happy," she replied.

"There is a familiarity to these orchids," he said because he had no reply to the confusing mixture of her emotional state. When she didn't speak again he reached out and touched the striped petals of a purple and green orchid,

"Phalaenopsis," he said.

She wiped her tears away on her sleeve and removed her gloves.

"That's exactly right. Do you still enjoy working in the kitchen?"

"Yes, but I've only just returned… to…"

Something is very, very wrong with him. The room seemed to tilt, but that wasn't possible. A pain in his chest threatened to choke him. Was he having a heart attack. Where was Tom? Why is he in here alone with a stranger? Why are they here at all?

But the stranger laid a gentle hand on his arm. She's smiling at him with his eyes and his mouth. A memory flashed and he slid his arm down to catch the woman's hand in his.

Walking along the beach holding hands just like this, collecting shells. Learning to swim in the ocean. Sitting on the kitchen counter helping stir batter and or cracking eggs. Learning his fractions with the measuring devices they used to prepare their meal. An ill-tempered siamese cat sitting in the window and a large yellow dog running with him along the shoreline.

There's no air in the room. The sound of his heart pounds in his ears just like the… just like the sound a seashell makes when you hold it up to your ear. It's blocking everything else but the sight of the woman in front of him.

He went down on one knee grabbing a table for support. The stranger followed him down.

A gentle hand on his cheek, "John, I never believed that little boy they left with me was you. I knew you were out there somewhere. That little boy died very soon after they took you away from me."

"How could you know?"

"Because they thought I wasn't there. I heard them say, she's not here. Then I watched them take my little boy away… I'm sorry. They would have killed us both. We had nothing... I heard them say some things. I thought maybe you'd have a chance at a better life… I'm sorry I lost you. I'm sorry, John."

John-117 the soldier, the Spartan, the son gathered the woman in his arms and held her while she grieved. He knew all about grief and he knew they would work through this together. He had so much to tell her! She would have many questions and he would answer all of them. Every single one. He pulled back and laid his large hand against the side of her face.

"Mother, that's not true, he said softly smoothing her hair back from her face. "We had each other. We had everything."

~o0o~

Hours later they walked along the beach. In one hand Tom interlaced his fingers with the Spartan and in the other was a good bottle of very expensive single malt. When they were alone and shrouded in the darkness with only the light of the stars to see by, the Spartan took the bottle and set it down in the sand.

"What you have done for me. Why?"

"Because I love you and I thought meeting your mother might make you happy."

"You succeeded in that quest. Is that what people who love each other do? Try to make each other happy? Is that what I do for you?"

Tom moved closer and settled his arms around his Spartan's waist. "Everyday, John. I could list the ways…"

"Perhaps another time. Do not distract me. Then given the criteria I must love you, too.

"I'm very glad to hear that." Tom laid his cheek against the massive chest. But John had other ideas and tipped Tom's head up.

"Yes, I'm certain of it. I'm in love with you, Captain Thomas Lasky. And I will show you every day. Do you require a list?" He asked seriously.

Tom pulled himself up and kissed John, "That won't be necessary. Surprise me. Come on, we promised to meet your mom for dinner."

"She seems happy working with the children."

"I agree. And now you're back in her life."

"I love you."

"I know, John. And I love you, too." Tom tugged on his arm. "Now let's get going I'm hungry."


End file.
